Shadow of the Future
by Martin III
Summary: -SF CD- Natasha confronts Mayfair about her pragmatic marriage. Cypress mages employ desperate measures to free May from bondage to Iom. Nick's son is born. And the first part of the prophecy about Deanna and Natasha's son threatens to come true.
1. Chapter 1: Husband and Wife

Author's Notes:

Egads, has it really been well over a year since my last Shining Force CD fic? Well, no more. Shining Monthly is back, albeit only for the duration of this novelette. And stick around, because I have plans for something big next year.

For those of you who are new to my work, you may want to check out my earlier Shining Force CD fics Hope for the Nations and "Celebration and Negotiation in Iom", as this fic picks up on plot threads introduced there. If you're not feeling up to that, though, don't worry; I've made an effort to make this fic understandable to new readers. As always, both praise and constructive criticism are appreciated, so post those reviews.

Technical Notes: The milieu of this fanfic is property of Sega. As usual with my more recent Shining Force CD fics, there's a big mix of original characters and characters that are property of Sega, so if you don't know which is which and would like to, drop me a line and I'll be happy to respond. This story is set five months after "Celebration and Negotiation in Iom", i.e. about 16 months after Shining Force Gaiden II(Sword of Hajya to us in the USA, and also released as Book 2 of Shining Force CD).

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><p>Shadow of the Future<p>

plot and script - Martin III

with a scene based on Shining Force CD Book 4, which was written by - Hiroyuki Takahashi

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><p>- Chapter 1: Husband and Wife -<p>

Deanna swallowed. "You go first."

Giving him a coy smile, Natasha turned her back to him, took off her robe, and then, before he could get a good look at her naked beauty, got into the tub. Even that brief glimpse, however, excited desire in him. It didn't matter that any disinterested observer would have said that physically Natasha was wholly plain; her simple femininity still was enough to leave Deanna in awe.

He removed his own clothes and followed her in. Natasha had her back to him, but at the splash he made, she furtively glanced at him. He blushed and fumbled for the washcloth.

Washing each other was a practice that they both enjoyed a great deal, and not only because it often led to lovemaking. Indeed, of late it more typically _didn't_, since Carla demanded frequent attention, and directing the efforts of their aid workers kept them fairly busy as well. Often it felt like they were lucky just to have the free time for the bath.

This time, however, they had straightened out all their pending projects for the moment, and Natasha had just put Carla in bed for the night, which gave them a couple hours to themselves at the least. The smile Natasha had given him was enough to indicate that she hoped they would take full advantage of that time. Which was hardly unusual; though she hadn't said so in so many words, Deanna could tell that Natasha was very eager to have another baby. A bath was a great way of "warming up" for the act of lovemaking, but it wasn't needed as an excuse. Every night that Natasha had the energy for it, Deanna was welcomed into bed with needful kisses and caressing. Most of the time he was more than happy to oblige. Carla was an absolute wonder, and despite lingering misgivings over Brehen's prophecy, he wanted a sibling for her for his own sake as much as Natasha's. Besides, sharing their love physically was something Deanna desired of itself. His body craved it, and his heart rejoiced in giving such pleasure to beloved Natasha.

This evening, however, he was not in the mood, and was dreading her inevitable disappointment. Guided by habit more than by the muffled desire budding in him, he rubbed the washcloth against her back, taking in with less than usual satisfaction her soft murmur of pleasure.

He thought back to the messenger from Cypress who had dropped by earlier in the day. When Deanna came out to see him, he found Rohde peering at him with intense suspicion, muttering about his time of arrival and the peculiar way he walked. He stepped in and inquired as to the messenger's business.

It was nothing particularly interesting. Though the messenger was friendly enough to share some tidbits of news from the court, his only official business was an invitation to a common diplomatic party. It was the sort of invitation he and Natasha could easily turn down. While sharing the news from Cypress, however, the messenger mentioned with some excitement that Queen Mayfair was nearing her ninth month.

This was, oddly enough, the first Deanna had heard of her being pregnant. He'd seen her at the celebration hosted in Iom some time ago, of course, but though she must have been three or four months pregnant by then, she said nothing about it. She was only concerned with reconciling him to King Nicholas after he had tried to prod him into giving up Carla.

"I know he's insensitive at times, Deanna," she'd told him. "But he really does want what's best for everyone."

"That was more than insensitive," he returned, his fists clenching in anger again. "That was callous."

"Deanna -"

"Natasha was always loyal to him, adored him, practically worshiped him. How could -" He was shaking now; Mayfair put a hand out to steady him. "How could he even think of asking her to do that to her own child?"

"Deanna, I'm sorry to say this, but Nick was offering you two the best solution he could. I know you don't want to do it, and you're right not to, but it would solve the problem, and I myself can't think of anything better." Her voice lowered to a sad tone. "There are certainly solutions that you would like even less."

"If he can't think of a good solution, he shouldn't have offered one at all."

"I know." Her voice rose, gentle, consoling. "Deanna, I understand. I do. But you admired Nick so much before. You aren't going to let this one thing change your entire view of him, are you?"

He couldn't say no to her. If Mayfair, of all people, found King Nicholas's actions to be better than reprehensible, he must have misjudged him somehow. Later, when his temper had cooled down, he even found that he could understand his perspective. It was still horribly wrong, but he could understand it.

But Mayfair's behavior bothered him. Not only had she not mentioned her pregnancy, she seemed somehow distant when asking about Natasha. As if...

"Deanna?"

Natasha's concerned voice made him realize he'd paused in his work with the washcloth. "Sorry..." he murmured, and resumed. After only a few moments more of this, however, Natasha reached down and caught his wrist.

"I think it's your turn now," she said. "Go on, turn around."

It was early; she usually indulged in his attentions for almost twice as long. But he did as she said without question.

She tenderly worked the washcloth over his shoulders. "So what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're never this distracted when we're bathing. And you're all tense," she observed, squeezing his shoulders.

"...I've just been thinking." He paused. "About... General Mayfair."

"Oh..." With that one word, her tone went from helpful and optimistic to sad and uneasy.

"She seemed... kind of downhearted... the last time I spoke to her."

In truth, it wasn't Mayfair's attitude that had him concerned. It was Natasha's. That was what was most troubling about the messenger's news: the realization that Mayfair was on the verge of giving birth to her first child, and Natasha still hadn't confronted the fact of her marriage to Nick. She had been afraid to visit Castle Cypress again, to see Mayfair, to face that truth.

Such lack of courage wasn't like Natasha. It wasn't like her at all.

"What do you think was bothering her?" she asked.

"Well..." He hesitated. He didn't want to push her into this. The very idea of leading Natasha into something that would cause her pain made him feel nauseous with shame. But... the sound of her voice when he brought up Mayfair... _This is making her sick inside already. She's just keeping it all buried. And she's never going to get better until she deals with this._

He swallowed. "...I... I don't really have any idea what's bothering her. But whatever it is... I'm sure seeing you would make her feel better."

She was silent for a moment, her hands still stroking his back. "Deanna... We can't just leave here right now..."

"Yes, we can," he said, losing his patience. "We've finished with all the projects we had at hand, and even if we hadn't... Hal and Shim can always take care of things for us."

"But... going all the way to Cypress, just for a visit?"

"...You haven't seen her since the coronation." He let a pause drop. "That was over a year ago. She... cared about you... like you were her own daughter. Maybe your not coming to visit... was the reason she was feeling down."

A silence fell, and he realized how what he said must have sounded. "I didn't mean -" he started.

"You're right." She hugged herself to him, planting a kiss next to his ear before letting go. "Even if she's already in a good mood when we get there, I'm sure just knowing we came to see her will make her feel even better. Besides, I've put off finding out the truth about whether she's married to Prince Nick or not for way too long. Let's do it."

He turned around to look her in the eyes. "You're sure? You really mean..."

She nodded. "I shouldn't have even had to have someone prod me into going. But thank you for doing that." She kissed him again, right next to his nose. He was suddenly acutely aware of the lovely shape of her body and its nearness.

Without thinking, he began kissing her mouth, her chin, her throat. Natasha giggled happily, a sound that sent a prickling warmth all over him. He couldn't think why, but he was filled with a sudden, intense desire to make love to her. He pulled back, asking permission with his eyes. She nodded without hesitation, and he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her out of the bath.

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><p>Mayfair lay in bed alone. The darkness of the night felt oppressive around her, and the quiet was even worse. Her ears strained for the sound of Nick softly breathing in the other bed. He seemed so distant.<p>

She should not, she firmly concluded, be having this much difficulty getting back to sleep. Her mind was untroubled by nightmares, or affairs of state, or any problems with the youths of Castle Cypress. Yet she was unable to rest, and she found herself loathing the fact that the space beside her on the royal bed was empty.

It was the warmth and nearness of Nick beside her that she missed. Though she had often gone to sleep feeling bitter at him, in large part because of the sexual intercourse she was duty bound to share with him, his presence had always been a comfort. Only after having been deprived of it did she realize how reassuring it was to have him near. At this point she even missed the sex. It had become such a nighttime routine that her body longed for his warmth and strength inside her, even as her mind remembered how relieved she had been when Nick agreed not to have sex with her while she was pregnant.

_Or is it only my body that has been desiring it? Sometimes I feel so lonely, now that being queen has separated me from some of the few friends I have. Nick having sex with me provided at least the illusion that I'm not alone._

There was no use dwelling on such thoughts. Not if she wanted the slightest chance of getting back to sleep.

She cast another longing glance at Nick's bed. _This is childish,_ she told herself. _What would Nick say if he awoke to find me curled up beside him like a toddler seeking comfort in his parents' bed?_

Mayfair promptly and firmly decided that she didn't care. She was pregnant; she needed her sleep, and she hadn't been getting it. It would be childish to deny herself out of pride. Holding a hand to her swollen belly, she climbed out of her bed and stepped over to Nick's.

Standing over him, she held her breath. There was something almost... adorable about his face as he slept. It looked tense, concentrated, as though he were focused on managing the kingdom's affairs even in sleep. It made her feel somewhat sympathetic, but mostly, she admired this side of him. It was the counterbalance to his coldness, and it reassured her.

Taking care not to wake him, Mayfair lifted the blanket and slipped in beside him. He did not stir. A single footfall could jolt Nick from sleep, but only if it belonged to an enemy, it seemed.

She closed her eyes. The sound of Nick's breathing this close beside her was something she hadn't heard in over half a year, and it was like finding a favorite book that she had forgotten. It was a strong, peaceful sound, and it was easy to believe that no harm could be near so long as it persisted.

"What are you doing?" a voice demanded.

Mayfair sat up with a jolt. Nick was standing beside her in his bed clothes, and daylight was shining into the room.

"I..." _Did I fall asleep that quickly? _"I couldn't get back to sleep. I thought perhaps if I were next to you, I could manage it."

"You should have woken me up and asked me to move to your bed," he said, turning away. He walked to the dresser. "I have told you before, I don't want my heir sleeping on anything other than the royal bed. Is that understood?"

She looked away as Nick began changing into his proper clothes. His voice was so cold. How could she feel any sort of warmth towards him? "It wouldn't have been right for me to wake you. You need your sleep, Nick."

"Lack of sleep is a sacrifice I am perfectly willing and capable of making. Imposing such discomfort on my heir is wrong."

This was an argument not worth continuing, particularly as she had no intention of sleeping away from the royal bed again at least until their child was born, in any case. And she had something more important on her mind. "I won't let it happen again, then. On a happier note, I think I may finally have hit a breakthrough with May."

"Excellent. What is it?"

Despite the dryness of his tone, it was obvious that she had caught his interest. _He cares too much. I fear that one day that will put him in an early grave._

"Our dilemma, if you remember," she began. "...is that if May is freed from Iom's power, she will immediately die, since his power is the only thing keeping her alive, and we cannot restore her life before removing his power, since she is, technically, already alive. The two have to be done simultaneously, and there is no known way of doing such a thing."

"But you've found one," Nick supplied.

"No. I've found an alternative." She got out of bed, walked over to the dresser, and picked up the book she had left there. "Last night, in the middle of my research I stumbled upon a reference to this book which caught my interest. It's a purely theoretical work, but -"

Nick was peering at the title. "'Nomads in Tents'?"

"In essence," she explained, flipping through the early pages, "...the book rejects the traditional assumption that mind, heart, and body are inseparably one. Citing cases of possession by evil spirits as evidence, it asserts that the mind and heart alone are the essence of a person, while the body is no more than his home - a tent, to use the metaphor in the title. Furthermore, it speculates that it is possible for a person to switch bodies. If transferred into an already occupied form, the transferred person should be suppressed by the mind and heart already occupying the body, but transferring oneself into a dead or otherwise vacated body will likely restore that body to life, with the transferred heart and mind in control."

"A fascinating theory - if your interest lies in superstitious nonsense. How does it apply to May's problem?"

Mayfair closed the book. "As I said, this is a purely theoretical work, and doesn't deal with magic at all. But I believe that with the help of the other magic adepts of the court, we can develop a spell that will transfer May's life force into another body. Since Iom's power seems to specifically hold life within her body, this should sever the connection from her to him, and we can return her to her own body afterwards."

A frown creased Nick's face. "What you're suggesting is black magic."

"There is no 'black magic', Nick," she returned. "It's all in how the magic is used. Even a Heal spell can be used to cause suffering, as anyone familiar with the interrogations conducted under Woldol knows. Just as 'good' magic can be used for evil ends, 'evil' magic can be used for good ends. Honestly, I'm surprised your father didn't tell you that."

"My father never had any understanding of magic. The one area in which I have surpassed him."

_One of ten thousand areas, rather,_ Mayfair thought, but held her tongue. "It's your decision, Nick, but I have little hope of finding a better way than this."

"May herself will oppose the idea more vehemently than I."

"That is likely, but we can't believe her if she does. It could just be Iom's will speaking through her, trying to keep her from being freed. Besides, what if she _doesn't_ oppose it?"

Nick gave a thoughtful sigh and rubbed at his jaw. "You're confident that this method will work?"

"No. But at the least, it will do no harm."

"...Very well. If May approves of the idea, you may proceed with the project. But if she opposes it, go back to looking for a better way."

She gave him a stern look. "You only make that offer because you're certain she'll say no."

"Mayfair, I give you my word -" But the look in her eyes reminded me that she knew well how much _that_ was worth. He sighed again. "Consider this, then. Would I risk the embarrassment of going back on my word when I could simply unconditionally forbid the project right now?"

"I'm not saying you might not keep your word. I'm just bothered by your reason..." She stopped. It was occurring to her now that she was probably wrong; if Nick really were fully against her idea, he would still be arguing with her, not pretending to cave. She was seeing wrong in him where there was none. _Besides, if May refuses to submit to the idea, I can argue the point then._

"Mayfair?"

"Nothing. My apologies."

"Get yourself dressed, then. I should like to discuss this further with you over breakfast."

"Haven't you invited some important people to breakfast with us today? I doubt there will be an opportunity for just the two of us to talk."

"True. Why not dinner, then?" He fastened on his cape. "It's been over a week since I've had the pleasure of dining alone with you, and I have no appointments for this evening that cannot be canceled."

"Very well."

"Good." Giving a nod, he turned and left.


	2. Chapter 2: Castle Drama

- Chapter 2: Castle Drama -

When Mayfair came down to the dining room, there were five at the table: Gyan, Richard, Varmo, Duke Herrig, and of course Nick. Gyan greeted her with a smirk. "Catching your beauty sleep, eh, Your Majesty?"

Her eyes immediately went to the youngest guest at the table. "I didn't know you had been invited, Varmo."

"We're hosting a diplomatic banquet in a little over a week," Nick explained. "I wanted to discuss the arrangements with our Minister of Decorum."

"I've finished compiling the list of guests who have promised to attend," Varmo pronounced, a self-assured smile on his face. "One name on the list is of particular interest -"

"I doubt any of the guest list would be of particular interest to my queen," Nicholas cut him off, and then, turning to her, said, "Please, sit down. The food is still warm."

She did so, and began serving herself. Richard said, "As I was saying, we've hit an impasse of sorts in our dealings with Emild. King Kay has turned down both of my recent requests for a meeting with him. We have little specific business to discuss with him at this point, but it is highly desirable for His Majesty to tell us his vision for Emild's future."

"And you're afraid he may be following his older brother's footsteps," the king deduced. "An understandable concern, but I can say with confidence that Kay is simply uncertain of himself in his role as ruler. After all, the boy has not even come of age quite yet. He can hardly be expected to have become adept at his duty so quickly." He bit into his piece of bread.

Mayfair frowned at that. Nick was almost certainly right in his assessment, but it was unlike him to dismiss doubts. He always said that nothing is ever certain. Did his certainty stem from his empathy with Kay and his siblings?

"Your Majesty, if I may," Duke Herrig spoke up. "There is a matter which, if somewhat beneath your notice, nonetheless requires your direct attention. Lord Annroy has been infringing upon my lands." The duke stopped there, but Nicholas was still in the middle of chewing, so he added, "Specifically, the several hundred acres between the Cypress River and the forest to the east of his estate."

Mayfair looked sharply at Nick. To think that a mere lord would so blatantly violate the laws of the kingdom at a time like this, when Cypress and her king were both fully secure in their power, was almost beyond belief. It was possible that Lord Annroy had first occupied those lands during the wars, but if that were the case, why hadn't Duke Herrig spoken up when Annroy came to Castle Cypress to swear loyalty to the king?

"Have you... discussed this matter with Lord Annroy directly?" She hadn't noticed it until he spoke, but Mayfair now recognized a subtle tension in Nick's jaw, a quiet anger burning in his eyes.

"Of course! Of course! Yet he insists that the lands are his by right, and is as immovable on the matter as if that were indeed the case. He will relent at no word less than your own, though I am sure that that will be sufficient."

King Nicholas nodded. "I can imagine," he said, no trace of sympathy in his voice. "I will give this conflict due consideration, then."

"What needs consideration? Simply put your seal to an order for Annroy to surrender those lands, and the problem should be solved!"

"Duke Herrig!" Richard snapped. "You presume to instruct your king?"

The duke flushed. "I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I did not mean... I let my excitement take control of me. I meant only to suggest..."

"You needn't have done so," Nicholas said. "I am well aware of the most _obvious_ way of solving the problem, and I will take it into consideration." He pronounced the word "obvious" with a certain amount of disdain, but Mayfair could not fathom why. "Such matters are not to be dealt with in an offhand manner. Now, Varmo, I was speaking to you of the preparations for the banquet."

"Ah, yes," Varmo answered. "I've started work on a seating plan, and it occurs to me to ask if there are any two nations which should not be seated at the same table."

"I wouldn't worry about that, no. None of Iom or Emild's more controversial figures will be in attendance, so there is no reason to expect discord."

"Very good. Now, you said this was a fairly informal event, so I've arranged for only a portion of our regular entertainers, plus a small town performing troupe, to keep things lively for our guests' arrival. Similarly, the cooks will be preparing a steady stream of small dishes for the most part, with only one universal course. The ballroom is being decorated for the event, and the court musicians are rehearsing the most lively songs in their books. ...I beg Your Majesty's pardon if I am... rambling into unimportant details."

The king shook his head. "No, continue. I wish to know everything."

Varmo seemed very sure of himself in light of how new he was to the position of Minister of Decorum. _He doesn't even have Halron at his side, yet he speaks as though he knows exactly what he's doing,_ Mayfair observed._ I only wish I could be certain that that's a good thing. Varmo has good, strong ambitions, but he lets them roll over his ethical compunctions._

"Well then, as to nighttime accommodations..."

"Excuse me, Queen Mayfair," Duke Herrig said, drawing her away from what Varmo was saying. "My daughter, Peppe, has been inquiring about you."

"That is very kind of her," she answered. Mayfair did not know Peppe well, but she seemed a good young lady. Despite her position, she fraternized freely with the other girls of the castle. "You may tell her I am quite well."

"This is, of course, your first time with child, so needless though it may be, she was concerned on that account."

"It is my first time, but it has been very... natural for me."

"Good, good. Though not entirely surprising to those who know you at all." He smiled with tightly sealed lips, like a starving man trying to keep as much cheer into the conversation as possible. "You sympathize with my plight, don't you, my queen?"

She wasn't sure what to say to that. First of all because, while she of course sympathized with any victim of unprovoked aggression, her family had never owned land and she thus found it hard to imagine what it was like to own any. And secondly, because out of the corner of her eye she could see Gyan giving her a look which plainly said _Don't say anything._ Knowing that she had to say _something_, this made her distinctly uncomfortable.

After a hesitation that she realized was far too long to be polite, she managed, "I confess that I don't quite understand the situation. How is Lord Annroy infringing upon your lands, exactly?"

"Ah, well... He's been exacting tribute from the people working those lands, gathering crops from them... That sort of thing."

"While it is you who have been leading and guiding those people?" she suggested.

"Well, I _would_ be, were Annroy not compelling them to follow _his_ commands. You understand my problem, yes?"

It bothered Mayfair that Herrig would mention the fact that his people were being harassed last, but she knew better than to assume that meant anything. She opened her mouth to reply, but was startled by the sound of Gyan loudly clearing his throat. Irritated, she whirled on him and demanded, "Gyan, do you have something to add to Duke Herrig's account?"

"Me?" He blinked his good eye. "Oh no, I just had some food caught in my throat. You know me... I haven't a clue about any of this stuff, just what His Majesty thinks of it."

She continued to glare at him. _What is he saying? That Nick doesn't want me talking to Duke Herrig about this? I can't imagine anything else that makes sense, but maybe I'm reading his words too deeply... or not deeply enough._

There were few things Mayfair hated more than when Nick was unclear about what he wanted from her, and one of them was when his unclear intentions were voiced through Gyan.

She turned back to Herrig. "I am inclined to sympathize with you, Your Grace, but I would like to know all the details of the situation before anything else, and I have not time to do that at this moment. Might we discuss this over dinner?"

The duke's face brightened with hope. "Of course! Of course! Indeed, I would be honored if you would join my wife and I in our quarters at that time, and allow me to be your host."

Gyan cleared his throat. "Mayfair, you already have dinner plans with King Nicholas."

Those words sent tension across her ribs, her legs, like iron manacles. She felt almost physically compelled to do what Nick wanted. And her heart burned with indignant anger in response. "Those plans were no more than tentative." She nodded her head. "I would certainly be pleased to join you this evening, Your Grace."

Gyan's lips pulled back in a gape of astonishment. "Mayfair, think for a moment."

"I am still my own person, Gyan," she returned, keeping her voice low enough that Duke Herrig was unlikely to hear, though it wouldn't overly bother her if he did. "Just because I am carrying his child doesn't mean I belong to King Nicholas. I will serve Cypress as I choose."

"All right..." Gyan said, casting her a "can't say I didn't warn you" look.

She realized that what she was doing was senseless, but she didn't care, because it was virtually harmless as well. And she was tired of Nick's orders, his indirectness, and most of all, his coldness. Just this once, she was going to deny him.

* * *

><p>Nick practically stormed out of the dining room, Gyan at his side. He didn't slam the doors, or take loud steps, or anything else that a casual observer might notice, but his walk was stiff, tense, not the free and confident stride that was normal for him.<p>

"Herrig is audacious; I'll give him that," Nick muttered. "He knows full well that those lands are Lord Annroy's, and he must know that I know it as well."

"Maybe he underestimated your knowledge of Cypress's territory?" Gyan offered.

"To do that, he must be a far bigger fool than I've measured him to be." Nick shook his head. "No, he's doing this because he thinks I'll let him get away with it even though it's wrong. He was one of the first nobles to swear his fealty to me, and he expects me to repay him by handing over those lands."

Gyan scratched a spot behind his ear. "Well, if that's what it is, you can see it from his perspective, can't you? He was one of the few who swore loyalty to you before the war with Iom ended. Natural for him to think that he's owed something in return."

"He is owed _nothing_," Nick snapped. "Nearly all of my army, including great soldiers like Natasha and Randolf, joined regardless of the official standings of their lords. The people of Cypress are in service to their nation and their monarch, not their nobility. Herrig's loyalty to me has always been appreciated, but it has never made a significant difference to Cypress's welfare." He shoved open the double doors leading to the hall where his study was found. "Even if I owed him anything, that would not justify taking away the lands that are rightfully Lord Annroy's, and displacing the people who live there."

"So, why didn't you just tell him no straight away?"

"Because now that peace is in Cypress and all of the nobility have sworn loyalty to me, the loyalty of an individual is more important. If I turn Duke Herrig against me, I lose the nation's solidarity, and perhaps even place myself at risk of treachery."

Gyan cocked his head at him as he opened the door to his study. "Well, it's either that or give him what he wants, isn't it?"

"No. A situation this complex never has just two possible solutions. There must be a third choice, and I'll think of it, given time. It just appalls me that Herrig would even try something like this." He laid the fingertips of his left hand upon his desk and released a sigh. The tension was sloughed off of his body. "I suppose I should be thankful, at least, that Mayfair was there when he made that petition. Without her beside me, I'm not certain I could have kept my calm."

"Her presence soothes the ferocious beast, eh?"

Nick scowled. "That is not amusing. I'm well aware that I've been more on edge of late."

A smirk crossed Gyan's face. "Something to do with your sleeping arrangements?"

"That is not an appropriate remark either. Even if it may be partially true." He slumped down into his chair. "That matter bothered me most in the first month of Mayfair's pregnancy, when the frustration of being without... that particular comfort was a factor. Now that I've grown used to it, it's only the absence of that comfort itself that is a problem. I think it may be our child's imminent birth which is upsetting my temper."

"You're worried something may go wrong," Gyan said, wondering why that possibility hadn't occurred to him before.

"Not at all. Mayfair is eminently suited for the feat of childbirth. It should greatly surprise me if there were any trouble there." He sighed. "I suppose if I am worried about anything, it is my own reaction. Having a child is a major step." There was a silence. "...Have you ever wished you could have children, Gyan?"

"Nope. I keep no regrets, and I don't wish for things I can't have."

"Good." He took a piece of paper. "One thing I can do right away, at least, is write a letter to Lord Annroy so we can have his account of the dispute between him and Duke Herrig."

"Whoa, hold on a minute." Gyan planted a paw on the paper. "Aren't you going to tell me why you didn't want Mayfair knowing who's on the guest list?"

"It wasn't _that_ obvious, was it?" Nick's tone was just slightly anxious.

"Naw. It's just that I know you."

His voice relaxed. "I've just learned that both Deanna and Natasha have agreed to come. I'm hoping to keep that a surprise for Mayfair."

"That's great. It'll be a good to have the two of them in Castle Cypress again. I take it they got over that whole, you know, demanding they give up their children thing."

"I hope so. I would like for Natasha to lend her talents to curing May. And since they've agreed to come, I took the liberty of inviting Stock as well. This could prove to be a good event for cheering Mayfair's spirits." He frowned. "Speaking of which, inclined as I am to trust in Mayfair's wisdom, this morning she had a perfectly misguided notion of how to cure May. Transferring her life force into a corpse, if you can believe that. I hope that I can talk her out of it over dinner tonight."

"Oh." Gyan scratched the back of an ear. "About that... Duke Herrig took your dinner engagement."

"What?"

Nick's voice revealed disbelief, not confusion, but Gyan clarified anyway, "Mayfair accepted a dinner invitation from Herrig. I'm assuming that means she's not also having dinner with you." He grinned. "You gotta hand it to her... Who else would have the nerve to break an engagement with the -"

"Leave me," Nick said. Gyan's grin evaporated as he noted the look on his king's face just before he turned away to stare at his desk.

"Nick, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Leave me."

Gyan knew he wasn't fine, and that Nick knew that he knew. Just as they both knew what Nick would do once Gyan left the room. It was a simple case of Nick not wanting the humiliation of anyone, even his closest friend, actually seeing him do it.

As Gyan closed the door behind him, he heard a muffled shout of frustration, immediately followed by the sound of glass breaking.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Jengh had been in a conversation with one of his favorite sergeants when a guard informed him that the prisoner(when asked which one, the guard had said in a lowered voice "<em>The<em> prisoner") had been clamoring to speak with Lady Natasha or Sir Deanna for the past two hours. The interruption did not please him, and he was sorely tempted to disregard Lady Natasha's orders about the prisoner. After all, Jengh didn't put any faith in his prophecy about Deanna and Natasha's child, even if a few of his other visions had proven true.

He could hear the prisoner's ranting as he entered the dungeon - something about a warning, and numerous repetitions of Deanna and Natasha's names. He didn't bother listening closely enough to sort it all out. His feet stomped down the stone steps, his nostrils sealing shut against the stench.

"What?" he demanded as soon as he stood before the bars holding Brehen in his private cell. "What is it?"

The prisoner started at Jengh's sudden appearance, then managed, "I need to speak to Deanna and Natasha."

"They are not in this city, haven't been for over a month, and have not informed us of any plans to return here soon. If you have had a vision, tell it to me. Or to Sir Edwin, if you prefer."

Brehen gnawed at one of his fingers, and Jengh realized that he was shaking uncontrollably. It might have been fear of Jengh himself, but the lizardman lieutenant doubted that. He was too familiar with Jengh to fear him.

"I will speak to you if Deanna and Natasha are not available, but it is very important that they be informed as soon as possible," he said at last. "Is it at all possible to have them sent for?"

"No."

"...Why not?"

Jengh folded his arms. "We've received word that they plan to attend the upcoming diplomatic party in Cypress. By now they must be on their way there. Now, are you planning to tell me of this vision you saw, or -"

"D-d-did you say, a d-d-diplomatic party? In Cypress?"

"Good; you can hear."

"Oh, g-g-gods, no!" His now shuddering hands grasped the bars. "T-t-that's where it begins! You have to stop them! I-I-I just saw it in my vision! A diplomatic party in Cypress... t-t-that's where it all begins!"

"What are you talking about!" Jengh snarled.

"You have to stop them! Send a messenger, bring them back to the capital -"

"It's too late for that! Now tell me what you are talking about!" He reached out to seize Brehen, but he collapsed to the floor of his cell, shivering. "Tell me! 'Where it all begins'... Where _what_ begins!"

"The Cloud of Iom..." the prophet mumbled.

"Yes, your supposed son of Deanna and Natasha who's going to kill us all. What about him?"

"His fate... the course of his life... it's determined there..."

"Oh, of coursssse. A diplomatic party is going to determine the entire life of someone who isn't even born yet." He let out an aggrieved sigh as he turned away and headed back up the stairs. "Yes, I'll be sure to inform Deanna and Natasha of _that_."


	3. Chapter 3: Gathering

- Chapter 3: Gathering -

Yeesha cringed at the sound of her name being called, almost knocking over the priceless vase she was polishing. When she realized it was Dave calling, not the one she'd feared, she let out a breath of relief, then sighed, "Yes?"

The youth came running up. "Um, I don't want to alarm you, but Luke and Jaha just ran through the other room. I don't know if you already cleaned in there, but..."

She sighed again. "Yes, I did."

"Sorry. Um..."

"Go on. I'll deal with it."

Dave hurried along, and Yeesha resumed her work. She supposed she should be thankful that the assortment of young guards recruited for the war against Iom had mostly matured enough to be of no trouble, but for the moment it simply aggravated her that after all this time, Luke and Jaha still hadn't. She wondered how Mayfair felt about it.

She ran the cloth over the vase, up and down, stroke by careful stroke, until it was spotless. Polishing had become an almost meditative experience for her; it was familiar, straightforward, and she could usually put aside thoughts of how much was left to be done. She was beginning to work on the wolf pedestal by the doorway when a voice snapped, "Haven't you finished yet?"

Yeesha snapped her head around, heart suddenly pounding quite a bit faster. Her voice coming out thicker than usual, she answered, "No, I have not. Now leave me to my work."

"You are presuming to order me?" Varmo folded his arms as though in imitation of a sage. He actually did manage to look rather wise for an adolescent, Yeesha had to admit. Once the slightly uneven shape of his fur would have betrayed him, but since his appointment as Minister of Decorum, he always had his head exquisitely groomed. "From most, I would have seen that as a simple lapse in courtesy. But you are a servant, and should not be in the habit of ordering _anyone_."

"I am trying to do my job," she said, managing to hold in a tremble of anger. "Your frequent interruptions are -"

"Overseeing the preparations for the upcoming banquet is part of my duty as Minister of Decorum," Varmo returned, his voice infuriatingly calm. "If you prove to be a persistent delay in... accomplishing those preparations, I shall have no choice but to report your incompetence to Their Royal Majesties. With that in mind, I suggest you get back to your work, this time with more efficiency and less fooling around. When you're done with the dusting in here, you need to wash the drapes in the East wing, and both those things need to be done _today_. Get them done." He turned and walked away before Yeesha could form any reply. Which was probably for the best, since in her current mood she would have likely said something uncivil enough to get her in trouble.

Electing to prove Varmo wrong rather than dwell on his words, Yeesha resumed polishing. Still, her heart sank at the thought of the new task he'd heaped upon her. There was a faint, almost invisible hope of her getting it done by the end of the day – or would have been, if she didn't have to redo the room Jaha and Luke ran through. As it was, she had no chance.

"He shouldn't say things like that to you," a warm and familiar voice said.

This time she didn't bother to turn around. "Can't I get even one thing dusted off without someone startling me?" she sighed.

"I'm sorry," Caden said in a hushed voice. "I was working in the other room when I heard him lecturing you, and I didn't want to speak up until..." He stopped there. "I should have said something," he realized.

Yeesha shook her head. "You would have only made things worse for both of us. Don't worry about it. I can deal with him."

"But you shouldn't _have_ to. I'm sure if King Nicholas knew -"

"Ni- His Majesty wouldn't choose Varmo over me." She finished the wolf pedestal with a sharp and deliberate flourish. "Even if he would, I wouldn't ask him to. He already put himself out for me once." And at the time, Yeesha had thought he'd really done that for her sake. She had since realized that Nick had renounced her exile out of his devotion to justice, and nothing more. He cared about her, perhaps more than any king had ever cared for a servant, but not enough to make him do anything as king that he didn't believe was right.

"But Varmo has been hounding you ever since this banquet was announced."

"Only me, though." She wiped at the other pedestal with a bitter frown. "He's been doing his job, maybe not well, but at least competently. I can't claim to be better than him unless I do the same."

There was a pause. "But you can't get all that done in the time he's set. My load is light enough; let me handle the drapes in the East Wing."

For a moment, that offer was quite tempting. But she quickly said, "No. If Varmo found out, and he almost certainly would, I'd be in more trouble than ever. Someone else helping me is probably exactly what that creep wants."

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

"You don't need to," she smiled. "If Varmo abuses his authority, King Nicholas will take care of it. Otherwise, he's just a nuisance. And just talking to you helps." She refocused on her polishing. "Now go on. I've got loads of work to do."

"If that is your wish, my lady." Caden gave her a look that clearly tried to penetrate her firm facial expression in search of a sign as to whether it truly _was_ her wish, but Yeesha's face remained cool and collected. With a nod, he moved on.

At times like these, Yeesha had to admit, her thoughts tended to focus on Nick's offer to arrange a marriage for her. The thought of being liberated from her sometimes demeaning work was very tempting. Still, though she was not so proud as to hold out for true love, she did want to marry a man whom she was at least fond of. The idea of marrying solely to escape her station in life repulsed her. Even ignoring the fact that she still took some pride in that station, in serving Cypress in her own underappreciated way.

After another minute of polishing, she could no longer resist peeking into the other room to see how much damage Luke and Jaha had done. She was pleased to find that Dave's alarm had been uncalled for(as it often was, she realized in retrospect). There were some light scuffs on the floor, but it didn't look like anything had been touched. It would take but a couple minutes of swish and wipe to leave the place once more a spotless reflection of Castle Cypress's majesty.

Heartened by this, Yeesha went back to her work with an extra burst of energy. Varmo would have no basis to sneer at her when she was done.

* * *

><p>Deanna held close to Natasha. Which was necessary, since they were sharing a horse, but she appreciated the warmth of him against her nonetheless. Little Carla, who was secured to her front with a cloth sling, seemed comforted by the sight of daddy's face over her mother's shoulder, Natasha noted. She hardly peeped at the uneven steps of the horse.<p>

Natasha smiled. "I can't wait to introduce her to everyone." She adjusted her grip on the reins and released a happy breath. "This is going to be fun, for all of us. Have I thanked you today for talking me into this?"

"Yes," Deanna said. She chuckled lightly at his response, and after a moment he joined her.

"You're not frightened, are you?" she inquired with sudden anxiety. "About riding, I mean."

"I'm okay. I've done plenty of riding; it's just... going fast that makes me... a little uneasy." He leaned over her a little to get a better look at Carla. "Do you know what really frightens me? That... that maniac still living in the capital, wanting our little girl dead." But he didn't sound frightened half as much as he sounded angry.

Natasha sighed. "Deanna, we've talked about this. He's in prison, there's no way he can get free, and we need him to help us figure out how to stop this evil conqueror he sees in our future."

"But he's _wrong_," Deanna returned, his voice tainted with the same bitterness Natasha had heard when she made him promise not to do anything to Brehen. "Your children could never be like that."

"But somebody _else's_ could be! Deanna, he's been completely right about other things; how can you be so blind that you would assume he's completely wrong about this thing!" As was her habit, she caught herself an instant later. "I- I mean... Gods, I'm sorry Deanna, but I'm so scared." Her eyes felt moist. "I'm so scared that he might be right."

"Natasha... didn't Dust say we should just kill him, and not worry about this insane prophecy?"

"We haven't even seen Dust for months. We don't know how he'd feel after so many of the things Brehen said turned out to be true."

Deanna pulled back from her slightly. "That's... another thing that's been bothering me. I've always wanted to talk to Dust more... about my brother. But now, all of a sudden, we've stopped seeing him at all, and Jengh and Frecor say they haven't, either. I... I didn't even get to thank him for saving you and Carla."

"Oh..." Natasha fiddled with the reins. _Deanna won't like that I've waited until now to tell him... but I've got to tell him now. I can't let this be a secret between us._ "Deanna, I... I think it may be my fault that Dust left us."

"What?"

He didn't sound angry, not even tentatively so; just confused. Even so, Natasha had to swallow before she continued. "When he saved Carla, I was so grateful to him... I just... embraced him. And when he wouldn't accept my gratitude, I kept pushing him, trying to get him to see himself as our friend." She was beginning to tremble, and Deanna placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I... I thought I could get him to open up, but he just pulled away. He told me that he told us to call him 'Dust' for a reason. I'm not sure what he meant by that, but I should've realized that was a sign I needed to back off. I would've told you about that, except... Before you came back from looking for King Aaron's heir, Rohde caught Dust sneaking up to my bed one night, just to touch... the place where Carla was. When I woke up and realized what he'd been doing, I thought he'd changed his mind, that he realized he wasn't just doing this because it was his duty somehow, but because he cares about us. Maybe not me so much, but you and Carla, at least. So I said it... I said to him, right in front of Rohde, that he'd obviously wanted to touch Carla. He looked almost panicked... He just apologized and left."

"And that... was the last time you saw him?"

"Uh huh. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I was just so happy when you got back, and so worried about Brehen's prophecy and all our other problems, that I didn't think of it."

"It's okay. You told me just now." His voice was calm. Natasha didn't say anything; she felt ashamed, because he wasn't angry, and she had known he wouldn't be. "Natasha... it wasn't your fault. We don't know why Dust hasn't been around, and... even if it was because of what you said, you had no way of knowing he would react like that. What you did for him... it was good. It was something you would do."

"But he's gone now!"

"There are lots of possible reasons for that. You know, he pretty much only showed up when he was needed, anyway. Maybe... that's why."

The horse's hooves clopped over the dry ground. "Just watching over us in silence now, huh..."

"Or maybe the Warderer loyalists have stopped trying to kill us... So he went back to serving Iom itself."

"But if he did that, he would have reported to Jengh or Frecor at some point," she observed.

"I guess that's true..." He paused. "I wonder how they're all doing in the capital. Especially Amelo and... his wife."

"Lady Gillian," she supplied. "I'm sure they're fine. They have Edwin, Yurligi, and Margo to look after them."

After that, they didn't converse for a while, as the sudden wailing of their daughter occupied the whole of their attention.

* * *

><p>"...and then, with any luck, yer connection to Iom will be snapped once you're in the new body," Jaha put in, gazing up at May with the most earnest of hopefulness twinkling in his eyes.<p>

Halron nodded. "Naturally, after that they can apply the same spell to return you to your original body, freed from Iom's influence. That's Queen Mayfair's plan, at the least. She wanted us to be explicit that this plan is still in the theoretical stages, and there are likely to be changes as the mages work the matter out."

May sat perfectly still in her cell. "Let it be done," she said softly.

"But this all depends on your approval or disapproval," Halron continued, bowing his head in a deliberate show of deference. "King Nicholas has said that he will not allow you to be subjected to such drastic and dangerous spells without your consent, so while your -"

"You gotta do it, May!" Jaha interrupted. "It might not work, but you gotta at least try!"

"...so while your friends must wish with all their hearts to see you restored to your usual self, we are sure," Halron finished, glaring briefly at Jaha. "...the decision nonetheless must be yours and yours alone. You have time, as much as you -"

"I said, 'Let it be done,'" May said, loudly enough for him to hear this time. Her eyes stared solidly ahead at the two Cypress guards, and Halron thought he could see a tear forming in one of them. "Tell Mayfair to prepare this spell, to help me, whatever it takes. I don't care about the risks, or the moral consequences, so long as it puts an end to this." A tremble went through her. "Just bring this to an end."


	4. Chapter 4: The Good Host

- Chapter 4: The Good Host -

_Good spirits, what am I doing here?_

For the first time all day, Mayfair was alone, and could allow herself to question why she had accepted Duke Herrig's invitation. A talk with the duke of itself was sensible, almost essential. But this specific appointment, supplanting her dinner arrangement with Nick, was obviously suspect. Duke Herrig would unquestionably have accommodated her for any other day and time. She had slighted Nick, which would aggravate him at the least, perhaps even hurt him. This was a minor crime against a friend, but since Nick was king, the consequences could go well beyond the two of them.

Of course, it was too late to reconsider. Nick had implied he would have to cancel some appointments to dine with her, and it was unlikely that he could afford to cancel them all at this late hour.

_Still, it is troubling why I would do this. If it is only to escape Nick, then what I have done is hopelessly childish._ Mayfair knocked on the door to the duke's quarters, and a servant immediately answered.

"Your Majesty," he said in a hushed voice, bowing his head. "It is an incredible honor to have you here. I..."

"Please, don't," she said. "I know you mean well, but I have had my fill of being regarded as nothing more than the Queen of Cypress for today."

"Forgive me." He raised his head and, to her astonishment, looked her directly in the eyes. "I thought you might feel that way, but I couldn't help myself when I saw you. Just by looking at you, one can see that all the legends about you are true. Here, shall we start again?" With a short, nervous laugh, he held out his hand to her. "Please, come in, my lady."

Surprised, but more than willing to respond to his familiarity in kind, Mayfair gave her hand and allowed him to guide her into the room. "You are very... forward, for a servant. Please do not take that as a complaint."

"My master is very forward," he smiled. "He not only allows his servants to speak freely with him, but encourages it. I guessed, given your modest origins and the compassion you've shown to your people, that you'd feel the same."

"I do. Thank you. ...Excuse my rudeness, but I have forgotten to ask your name."

"Caden. I am very pleased to meet you."

"More than a pleasure to meet you, Caden."

They passed from the foyer into a modest sized room filled with soft chairs and couches. There were no occupants. "My master will be along in just a minute. You may be seated, if you wish."

"Thank you. Why is he not here?" she asked, taking a seat in a mundane oak chair. Sitting was something of a process since she was near the end of her pregnancy, but despite that, and despite it being just her and the duke's servant, she felt quite comfortable.

"Perhaps I shouldn't say..." Caden gingerly lowered himself into a chair opposite her, his eyes now darting over the floor more than her face. "My master and his wife often argue when they are preparing for guests. They seem to be able to hear when their guests arrive, though..."

"Which is why you feel sure they'll be here in a minute?" He nodded, and she found herself noting the curiously tall shape of his forehead. His whole face was rather elongated and drawn, yet soft, and warmed by the modest light in his eyes. Though Caden was unreserved, one look at his face and the shy clasping of his hands showed that he was anything but prideful. "Now that you mention it, I did hear some unpleasant noises when I came in, though you managed to distract me from them."

His eyes widened. "You could hear them? Your ears must be exceptional. I've never heard them through these thick walls, and I've been listening for them."

"I am actually surprised I couldn't hear them better. Blindness was training for my ears, and you said that they could hear me..."

"Not exactly." He squirmed a bit under her gaze. "I said they _seem_ to be able to hear. My imagination is too limited to come up with any other explanation for how they know to stop fighting."

They both were silent for a moment, then started at the sound of a door opening. Duke Herrig and a woman, presumably his wife, stepped into the room.

"Ah! Forgive my wife and I for the wait, Your Majesty. Caden, I trust you've been keeping our guest entertained?"

"Well..." Caden began.

"Wonderful. Your Majesty, may I anxiously inquire as to whether the wait was overlong?"

She smiled. "If it was, your man here certainly made it seem otherwise. Is it too much to hope that you have plans for him to join us?"

The duke chuckled. "If we have plans... You are very unimposing, Your Majesty. No, we had not made such plans, but there is room for one more at our table, I should think. Caden, inform the cook, won't you?"

Even before she'd observed Caden's uncomfortable flinch, Mayfair had opened her mouth to say, "Nonsense. To ask the cook to prepare extra food for oneself is an extremely awkward task. I made the request, so I will speak to the cook... provided, of course, that Caden accepts the invitation."

The duke's wife protested, "But Your Majesty, such an errand is beneath -"

"Caden, what do you say?"

He brightened. "It would be an honor."

* * *

><p>Nick nodded as the scholar explained to him the motive behind the history book she was penning, saying nothing, but inside he burned with rage.<p>

At this moment, he knew, Duke Herrig was enjoying Mayfair's presence. Gladdened by the glow of her warmth, illuminated by the light of her wisdom, graced by the sight of her beauty. He could see the duke now, smugly enjoying the company of his queen, knowing that his words had swayed her over Nick's. All while further plotting how he could coerce his king into giving him lands that were rightfully Lord Annroy's.

"...and then of course, the unusual circumstances in which you first met the woman who would become your queen..." the scholar went on.

My_ queen,_ he thought to himself. _Mine!_

He despised and rejected such possessive thoughts, but he could not stop himself from thinking them. Mayfair was not truly his, had never been his, could never be his, and perhaps most important of all, _should_ never be his. Yet the cold and selfish part of him continued to want her to be a bird in a gilded cage. As if blind to her value as a free and independent person.

"...and last but not least, the means by which you communicated with your resistance forces during the civil war. Have you the time to discuss those points with me, Your Majesty?"

_Have I the time...? I have everything. Why should I be so enraged at losing Mayfair's company for one evening, even to an underhanded fox like Herrig, when I have the exclusive rights to her womb as the nurturing soil for my seed? Men of most generations could only dream of having a woman like Mayfair as mother to their children. But perhaps it is chiefly the injustice Herrig seeks to commit which angers me._

He pushed his thoughts aside. "Yes, I have time. If you can be here early afternoon three days from now, I would be happy to satisfy your curiosity in full."

"That... that would be fine. You don't have the time to get started on it now, then?"

"I have the time, but to be honest, my mood at the moment is not conducive to it." He could always subdue his passions during conversation, but for something like the extended interview being proposed, he preferred to be calm both outwardly and inwardly.

"I am sorry to hear that, Your Majesty." She bowed. "I greatly look forward to speaking with you three days from now."

* * *

><p>"You're disgusting," Dawn spat, turning and stomping back up the hall. "I don't know what made me think you'd changed."<p>

Grawler trotted after her. "Hey now. Don't you think that's going a bit far?"

"You violated the sanctity of Castle Cypress, and for no real purpose. On a whim!"

"All I did was take a peek at the guest list. What's so awful about that?"

"Mainly, that you broke into the Minister's study to do it!"

Grawler pulled at his hair with one hand. "You can't be serious."

Dawn picked up her pace, making a quick turn and heading right out the castle gates, into the open field. Grawler had to gallop for a few seconds to catch up.

"Really now, 'the Minister'?" he pushed. "He was our comrade-in-arms, remember? You've seen him soil more undergarments than he's signed decrees."

"He's still a minis-"

"He's our friend," he rejoined. "And his door was unlocked. How can you call that breaking in?"

That angered Dawn all the more. Enough for her to turn on him as suddenly as her equine limbs would allow, making her hooves cut into the grassy earth beneath her. "This is the most loathsome thing about you. No matter what you've done, you'll never admit you've done anything wrong. You come up with rationalization after rationalization -"

"That's not true!" For once, he sounded a little angry himself. "I'm ready to talk about it if you think what I did was wrong, but you're blowing this up to be much bigger than it is."

"I have to, or you'll pretend like it's nothing at all."

"Alright... alright, look. All I did was walk into his room -"

"When you knew he wouldn't be there," Dawn put in.

"...and got a look at a piece of paper. If you think that's wrong, well, I have no problem with telling Varmo what I did. Alright?" Dawn didn't answer, and Grawler's face brightened, seeming to take her silence as a good sign. "Anyway, don't you want to hear who's on it?"

She turned her cheek to him. "Didn't my reaction when you asked that the first time clue you in that the answer is 'no'?"

"It's not as though it's super-secret information," he snorted. "If you don't tell anyone, what's the harm?" Again she didn't answer, and this time he took that as a bad sign. With a shrug of his shoulders, he said, "Alright, then. I'll go confess to Varmo now. You can come with if you don't trust me."

He was turning to go when Dawn, after giving her lower lip a good bite, spoke up at last, "Alright, tell me. Who is it that you're so eager to tell me is coming to the party?"

Grawler smiled. "Your old friends, Natasha and her beau, Deanna."

"Oh. Interesting."

"You don't seem very excited."

"There's not much chance I'll see a lot of them, is there? I'll be on guard duty." He gave her a look that she wasn't sure how to interpret. "Anyway, just... go, tell Varmo what you did."

"You trust me to do it on my own?" He gave an exaggerated bow. "Truly, your faith moves me, my lady."

"I _don't_ trust you," she returned. "I'm simply leaving you to make your own decision about whether or not to follow your conscience. I'm not going to force you."

Grawler winced. "That hurts. You know that, don't you?"

"If you want my trust, you'll have to do a lot more to earn it."

"I didn't think I'd done anything to lose it. Hey." He studied her face, his expression more earnest than was usual for him. Dawn lowered her eyes in mild embarrassment. "We're still, you know, together, aren't we?"

"Yes. I forgive you," she said, but didn't raise her head.

"You know I'm crazy about you, right?" He leaned in to press his lips briefly to hers. "See you later, fair lady."

Grawler trotted off. Dawn watched him go for a moment before walking away herself, towards the castle's outer walls. She had guard duty. Whenever she wasn't sure what to do with her personal life, there was always guard duty.

_Why am I so worried about Natasha showing up here, anyway? Am I afraid that she'll hate me now? Even if she hasn't started to hate me just because of how I feel about battle, about killing, there's that lieutenant I fought when I was on that mission to Emild, the one whose face I bashed in. Jengh. He said he was responsible for freeing Deanna from the same Iom worshippers who captured us - what if he was telling the truth? Will Natasha forgive me for hurting him?_

"Absolutely shameful." Dawn almost reared back, not having noticed Eric standing in front of her until he spoke. "How can you debase yourself by romantically consorting with that lowlife plunderer?"

"So many big words," she said, brushing past him with her usual cool expression. "You must have practiced that sentence for hours."

"Answer the question."

"It's none of your business." She kept on walking, so Eric had to gallop a bit to catch up with her. _Seems like men are doing that with me today. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or just aggravated._

"I fought by your side in the war with Iom. I am owed an answer from you!"

"Why, by the name of Cypress, should you care why two people, neither with a drop of noble blood in their veins, choose to be with each other?"

Eric tossed his head, a motion that would have probably made him look genuinely noble if it weren't for his surly face. "You may not have noble blood, but you are a woman of great refinement and character. That filth you met in Emild isn't worthy of cleaning out your hooves."

"You don't even know him. Keep your groundless opinions to yourself."

"I don't need to know _him._ I know his kind, and -"

"Leave. Me. Alone!" She put her hands to her ears and directed a kick in his direction. She made a deliberate effort not to hit her target, because there would be dire consequences if that happened, but wished with all their heart that she _could_ kick him.

Then she walked away. She had already been walking, but now she was distinctly walking away from him.

"I refuse to allow you to debase yourself!"

"Then stop talking to me!" she snapped back. "Nothing debases me half as much as every conversation I've had with you!"

That seemed to shut him up. After she had made some good distance, Dawn glared back to see if he was following her. But Eric was just standing there, face bright red with anger.

Or maybe, with humiliation.

* * *

><p>"Truly, an inspired notion!" Duke Herrig commented, his face brightening. "I'd never have thought of it, myself."<p>

"I am not seeking flattery, your eminence," Mayfair reminded him.

"Ah, but no flattery is intended," the duke said, lifting his wine glass to be refilled. This was his second request for a refill, yet Mayfair could swear he'd taken no more than three sips. "I'm always excited by innovative ideas, and this is a good idea, you must realize. In fact, it's a better idea than you must realize, because you don't yet know that I have the means to help you."

"What means is that?" She was careful not to raise her hopes too high or seem too pleased; Herrig could be simply trying to curry favor.

"It happens that I have in my service several mages who are well-versed in the sort of thing you require."

"Transferring souls?"

"No, no; as you yourself noted, that field is purely theoretical to date." He twirled his wine around while he spoke, then at a pause, lifted it to his lips as if to take a sip, only to lower it again. "Their expertise includes possession by evil spirits. My own knowledge of this is of course rather limited, but from what I understand, that would make them more knowledgeable about the field of body and mind than anyone else we could hope for, yes?"

Mayfair nodded.

"Well, then, would it please you if I had them brought to Castle Cypress and put at your disposal?"

She ate a piece of bread while she pondered. _It's unwise to accept favors from someone while they are pleading a case before the throne. I didn't need Gyan's warning to know that. Unwise, except... I trust Herrig. He seems more fixated on his belongings than a person should be, but he's friendly, open, and going by my conversation with Caden, he's a good master. Besides, to delay the working of a cure for May would be to forget the debt we owe her._

She swallowed her bread. "Anything that might help May would please me. Thank you."

Herrig smiled, slow, gentle, like an old man recalling a favorite memory. "It is my pleasure, my queen. I am always at your service."

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Mayfair broached, "Caden tells me you encourage your servants to speak their mind to you. That's very unusual, for a nobleman."

"Is it? But if I don't know what's on their minds, that puts me in a state of ignorance. It would seem foolish to encourage my servants to keep things secret from me." He turned to smile at Caden. "Besides, my servants are not only good servants, but good conversationalists."

"Peppe is engaged in her studies, and we have no other children," the duke's wife put in. "So it is good to have more than one person in the household to talk with."

Herrig's smile became strained. "Indeed. And Caden was just telling me the other day -"

"Your eminence, please," Caden pleaded.

"...about this young lady he's interested in," Herrig finished. "He wouldn't give her name, but she's one of the palace staff. What was it you were saying about her, Caden?"

"I would rather not say in front of our guest, your eminence." Caden was already blushing, but his voice didn't sound too aggrieved. This seemed to be no worse than good fun between him and his master, so rather than intervening, Mayfair quietly wondered whether the "young lady" they were talking about was Yeesha.

"Well, I rather _would_ say in front of our guest," Herrig rejoined, and turned to his wife. "If I could but remember. Could you aid me in recollecting, my dear?"

"It was nothing to do with her personality, I remember," the duchess supplied, putting a finger to her cheek in a mock expression of thoughtfulness. "That surprised me, our deep and discerning Caden, chiefly admiring something other than personality."

"Ah, yes! Yes, it was some peculiar mannerism of hers..."

Caden shook his head. "You're making far too much of it. I only brought it up for conversation, and besides, I'm not really that interested in the woman."

"Not that interested! You've been bringing her up over and over for weeks!"

Caden shot Mayfair a look that pleaded for understanding. She didn't know enough to be able to see what his point of view on the matter was, however, so all she could offer him in return was a blank look.

"I remember what it was now," the duke said. "She always cleans the undersides of table legs. A charming little whimsy, is it not?"

"If you say so, master."

Herrig shrugged the matter off with a smile. "Well, we do have other matters to discuss... After all, I invited you here to talk about the situation with my lands that have been usurped by Lord Annroy, did I not, Your Majesty?"

Mayfair nodded. "Please, tell me everything."


	5. Chapter 5: Party Time?

- Chapter 5: Party Time? -

"Natasha!"

The object of this address immediately recognized the centaur galloping up to greet her and Deanna. "Vyra! It's been so long!"

"A scenario for which you have only your own actions to thank," she snorted in mock contempt. "I volunteer to help escort King Nicholas into Iom, just to get a chance to talk with you - and then you don't even have the decency to turn up at a diplomatic event in your own country! Instead you just send your poor underappreciated husband to make excuses for you."

Deanna colored. "I wasn't... I mean, she didn't..." He struggled for the words. He did get the sense that Vyra was just teasing, but he still couldn't stand ill things being said of Natasha.

"I do appreciate him," Natasha said with a smile, pressing her cheek to Deanna's shoulder.

"But not your friends, it would seem."

"Oh, knock it off, Vyra," she laughed, leaning over in the saddle so that she could embrace her friend. Deanna compulsively gripped her waist for fear of her and Carla falling off. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you. But I was looking after our little bawler, here."

"So I see." Vyra leaned in to get a better look at Carla, who was stirring at the noise of their greetings. "Ohhhh... she's beautiful, Natasha."

"Thank you."

"I never would have believed you'd be the first of our little group to have a little one. Speaking of whom, we're planning a gala reunion for us girls for the morning before the party. I speak for all of us when I say that declining the invitation is not acceptable."

Natasha blinked. "Oh! Well... If I can bring Carla along..."

"Are you serious? Of course you can!" Vyra laughed. "She's a girl, isn't she?"

She looked back over her shoulder at Deanna. "Is that okay with you?"

"Of course. I'll be fine." The last thing he wanted to do was interfere with Natasha seeing her friends.

"Don't worry; you two will have plenty of time to yourselves." Vyra grinned and turned back towards Castle Cypress. Now that she was done being scrutinized, Carla began grasping at her mother's long hair. "I can scarcely wait to show you two the accommodations King Nicholas had set aside for you. Garu, mind my post, will you?"

"Sure."

Vyra escorted them to the gate, where an attendant was waiting to take their horse to the stables. Deanna dismounted first so that Natasha could hand Carla to him before getting off herself. Vyra then proceeded to lead them through the halls.

"Um. How is Mayfair?" Natasha asked.

"Oh, fine," Vyra answered. She had never been nearly as close to the former general as Natasha had been.

"Is she around? I mean, she will be at the diplomatic party, won't she?"

Vyra laughed. "Are you serious? It would be an international incident if she didn't appear at one of Cypress's own diplomatic events." There was a silence, and Vyra suddenly turned to look at her, concern on her face. "You _had_ heard that Mayfair is queen now, right?"

"Of... of course."

A frown came over Vyra. "Hey, you aren't jeal-"

"How is Eric?" Deanna cut in. "And Jaha, Luke, and Dawn? We haven't seen any of them since the coronation."

"Well, Dawn and Jaha were in Iom about half a year ago." Vyra smirked. "If you hadn't escaped from those Iom worshipers who caught you, Deanna, you'd have been able to share a sacrificial slab with them!"

He paled. "They... were part of that party?"

"Don't worry; they're fine. Dawn was injured by some Iom lieutenant named Jengh, but she has long since recovered. She's a hardy one." She stopped at a door and took out a ring of keys. Deanna busied himself with rubbing Carla's little head. Natasha didn't seem to have caught the reference to Jengh. "Anyway, have a word with Dawn or Jaha about it if you want to know the details. Or Mayfair. They're all around. Ah... Here you go."

The door looked thick, but it swung open easily. Natasha let out a gasp when she saw the interior. "There... there must be some mistake."

"Not even a chance of one," Vyra returned, grinning widely. "I double-checked."

"But this is almost as lavish as the rooms they gave us in the capital back in Iom!" Indeed, with the gilded windows that seemed to stretch more than a level high, the paintings adorning the walls, and the well-cushioned furniture that decorated the room, the place seemed fit for none less than nobility or the king's ministers. It hardly seemed a room for two foreigners with no official titles or office.

Vyra's grin strained. "Really. 'Almost'?"

"I didn't mean to belittle this place," Natasha said, blushing. "I mean, it's -"

"I know you didn't. You always blurt out the harsh truth, and you never say anything with the _intent_ to be harsh. What I was leading up to is, you should be careful about how you mention Iom while you're here. Not all Cypressians are proud of the fact that you left Cypress for Iom and have done more good for them than you have for the country of your birth. Some of them are even a little bitter about it."

"Oh..."

"Don't worry. None of your friends here feel that way. Just enjoy yourselves, okay? I have to get back to guard duty, but a servant will be along to tend to your desires very shortly. Oh, and King Nicholas is offering you a special invitation to visit Cypress's most historic museum two days after the party. He says you can take your time deciding whether or not to accept. See you at the reunion!"

Vyra closed the door behind her. Natasha let out a somewhat weary sigh, and took Carla from Deanna, wrinkling her nose as she did so.

"Good thing Vyra didn't notice, but I think our little girl just did some poopie. Where can I...?"

"It looks like they left some baby things for us over there," Deanna said, pointing.

"Oh, wow." She set Carla on the little table covered with a white towel and undid the knots of her diaper. "It was really thoughtful of King Nick to - Phew! - have this stuff laid out for us." She began wiping Carla's bottom with a small cloth that had also been set on the table. "I guess I should have asked to see Mayfair right away, huh?"

"You were... probably thinking about cleaning Carla," he offered.

"Yeah, but I could have left that to you." She took out the spare diaper they'd brought and began tying it onto Carla. Deanna considered pointing out that King Nicholas has also left them an extra diaper, but reflected that Natasha had probably noticed it already and preferred not to accept any more gifts than they had to. He went to the table and retrieved the dirty diaper so that he could wash it. "Am I being a coward again, Deanna?"

"You just didn't happen to think of it, that's all. ...I'm sure we'll see her at the party, at least."

"Mmm." A frown creased her brow, even as she hoisted Carla into her arms. "I don't think we should take any chances. I'm going to see if I can see her after dinner." She gave Deanna a very serious look. "Make sure I go, okay? Promise me."

He smiled. "I'll go with you. I want to see her, too."

"That's sweet of you, but -" She shrugged helplessly. "I think I'd rather you stayed here and watched Carla. Your relationship with Mayfair is separate from mine, you know? I don't want things to get overcomplicated."

Deanna stared at her a moment, and he realized that it was _he _who was most scared now. He had little doubt of what Natasha would find: that Mayfair had married Nick, and for purely practical reasons. That frightened him, made him fear that such a decision by someone Natasha respected so much would shatter her idealism. That idealism was one of the things Deanna loved most about her. He knew it wasn't fragile, any more than Natasha herself was, but a test like this was bound to at least hurt her.

"Deanna? Is that okay?"

_But the really scary part is... it wouldn't really do any good if I came along. I can't protect her._

He swallowed. "Yeah, that's okay."

* * *

><p>"Deanna and Natasha have arrived." Caden said the words with a certain terseness that Varmo felt could only be described as impudence.<p>

The kyantol frowned as he sifted through his papers in search of the guest list. "I'm fairly certain that you are not one of the servants assigned to watch the gate, Caden."

"You are correct. I happened to be heading this way, and since both servants assigned to the gate are averse to reporting to you, I agreed to pass along the message."

Varmo stood up. "Your master is far too lenient with your lack of manners."

Caden quaked at that, but not out of fear, from the look of it. "Forgive me. It was not my intent to be rude." Varmo considered, but Caden made a hasty bow. "Will you please excuse me? My master is expecting me."

His apology _did_ seem to be in earnest, and not just politically motivated. "Yes, fine, go then." He waved a hand and sat back down, while Caden took off.

_Brash fool. At least he seems well-intentioned, though... It's that master of his who's to blame. Duke Herrig is too liberal by far. Just one more nuisance to deal with on top of all the other preparations for the party. Leadership isn't easy when you're leading a bunch of low-born idiots._

_ Can't afford to mess this up, though. The first two events I organized were a mess. Their Majesties forgave me because of my youth, my inexperience, and let's not forget the unspoken but obviously most important reason, the lack of any other serious candidates for my position. But there comes a point at which they'll have to conclude that almost anyone would be a better Minister of Decorum than I, and I'm nearing that point more quickly than I would like._

With a sigh, he put a pair of checks by Deanna and Natasha's names on the guest list. _The first two to arrive, but the wave of guests will be hitting soon. I only hope that I haven't forgotten some part of the preparations._

He looked up at the sound of the door to his study opening. "Would it have been a bother to knock? ...Oh, Halron. It's you."

"Now there's a friendly greeting," Halron grunted. The beastman's dark fur looked a bit more poofed out than usual.

"Sorry. I have a great deal on my mind."

"Well, it will have to make room. I just spoke with May."

Varmo's eyes dilated. "About the soul transfer spell?"

* * *

><p>"She's agreed to it, Nick," Mayfair said, handing him Halron and Jaha's report. He could read no emotion in her eyes, not even anything resembling gloating, and that angered him all the more. "Unconditionally. There is no need for further discussion of the matter."<p>

"In other words," he said, very deliberately, "...you are unwilling to discuss it further."

"There is no point." She sat back down and began eating her soup.

"There is always a point in discussing a matter when you disagree with someone," Nick rejoined. "Even if the matter itself is practically resolved, there is always value in understanding the other person's point of view."

"I think the queen simply meant that now is not the best time to discuss it," Gyan interjected, casting worried glances between the two of them.

Nick took his meaning, and felt freshly aware of the fact that Irinod and lieutenant Geoffrey were present. But Mayfair returned, "Nick promised that we would proceed with my idea if May agreed. Since she has, there is really nothing at all to discuss."

He clenched his fist under the table. _She... she's baiting me. Have to stay calm. Don't give in. Don't let her win. Remember, she did you the honor of mothering your child. Don't let her make you forget that._

"My wife, I ask only the grace of sharing a conversation with you on a matter you feel strongly about. Is there something amiss, that you should so quickly refuse such a modest proposal?" She turned to look at him, surprise in her eyes. Apparently at a loss, she said nothing, so he continued, "Well, I will not press you further if it makes you uncomfortable. You can always discuss it with me later. We can even discuss later whether we can discuss May's situation later."

This mild witticism earned a round of chuckles from the dinner guests. Mayfair went red, her face almost quivering with anger.

Her reaction took him by surprise, and for a moment he forgot his roles as king and husband. "Mayfair? Are you all right?"

"You needn't be so upset, Your Majesty," Irinod added. "His Majesty's jest was obviously not intended to offend or tease you in any way."

"Yes, of course," she said, but Nick could find in her eyes none of the calm that was in her speech. "I'm simply not feeling well this evening. I beg your pardon, but if you will all excuse me..." She stood up very suddenly and strode out of the room, showing no awkwardness in pushing the door open with one hand while holding onto her engorged womb with the other.

Nick hesitated only a moment. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, and pushed himself out of his seat to go after her. He had considered an extended, more elegant apology, but that would likely have made them suspect his concern for Mayfair was calculated rather than genuinely emotional. He set a long, fast stride for the door; anything slower would similarly have made his guests question his sincerity, while anything faster would have lacked the dignity of a king.

Despite his fast pace, when he broke out through the doors he saw that his queen had already put some good distance between them. "Mayfair!" She did not slow, and since there was conveniently no one else around, he jogged to catch up with her. As soon as he came within reach, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a halt. "What's wrong?"

"You had no cause to embarrass me that way." It was not a complaint. but a reprimand.

"To embarrass you was not my intent."

"Then I am most curious as what your intent _was_."

"I was trying to lighten the mood. I know that humor is not something you delight in, but if you were anything like your usual self, my remark would not have offended you in the least. So I'm asking you, what's wrong."

She looked down at the floor for a moment, but when she looked up again, her gaze was unflinching. "If I have been irritable, I am sorry. But I am in the final month of my first pregnancy, and I am honestly fed up with the way you treat me. Even Gyan has commented on your callousness towards me. I hope you do not find it too difficult to see why I am not quite myself these days."

"I have never done anything to hurt you." It was not a firm avowal. More of a plea.

"True," she said, and added, "...nor anything to avoid hurting me."

Nick sighed. "Very well." He ran his hands over her upper arms in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "I will try harder. Now, since we're having a frank discussion of our feelings, perhaps you could explain why you had dinner with Duke Herrig yesterday after Gyan warned you about him."

She gave him a condescending look. "Herrig came to us with word of a problem in your kingdom. I'm fairly certain it is our duty to find out all we can about the situation and tend to it."

"You don't understand!" he said in a harsh whisper. "I already know everything there is to know about the situation. That's why Gyan was warning you that -"

"I'm quite capable of handling myself, thank you. I've been involved in Cypress's politics for some time now and I think I know how things work by now."

"If you did, you'd have known better than to accept an invitation from Duke Herrig at all," he retorted. "Lord Annroy didn't take those lands from Herrig; they are his by right, and Herrig knows it! The duke is trying to manipulate me into feeding his foul greed, and your actions are making it more difficult for me to defend Annroy's scant possessions."

"Good spirits, listen to yourself. You haven't even heard Herrig's side of the story, yet you've already judged and condemned him. I understand that you don't always have time for such things, but if you had simply graced his home with a single visit, you would have learned what I already have: that whatever his faults, the duke is in essence a thoughtful, courteous, and kindhearted man. And if you won't listen to him, I will." With that, she broke away from him and walked away.

"Mayfair!" He strode after her. "For the love of Cypress, will you listen to me? You're letting Duke Herrig play you for a fool."

"No; you're trying to play me for one. This is obviously no more than another game of control for you. Well, I won't let you control me anymore."

"That's -"

He stopped. And he stood there, watching her go.

_That's nonsense. The sort of nonsense I've never heard from Mayfair. What in the world is wrong with her? I've not been exactly even-tempered myself these past few days, but she almost seems to have abandoned all reason. Could the imminent birth of our child have affected her even more than me?_

As soon as this last thought entered his head, he realized that it made perfect sense. _If a man as insensitive as myself finds the birth of his child stressful, one would expect a woman like Mayfair to be still more affected. And after all, she's the one with the burden of carrying the child._

_ The question is: What can I do about it?_

* * *

><p>Mayfair didn't dare reflect on her argument with Nick rationally. It would be too painful. As she headed back to the rooms she now shared with Nick, all she could think of was how insufferable he was. He never once, through the whole dinner and the entire argument afterwards, showed any real consideration for her. All he did was try to defend his own actions. That wouldn't have hurt, or even bothered her before. After all, she'd never been a selfish person, and Nick had always praised her for being both physically and emotionally self-reliant.<p>

But now... It wasn't fair. She wasn't just carrying herself anymore; she was carrying his child, not out of love, but out of duty. Was it too much to ask that he support her in that?

As she walked on, she passed Theo patrolling the halls. She could not muster up the spirit to offer him more than a nod and a faint smile, though she managed at least to make them fairly convincing. Theo wasn't the most observant of people.

Still, she did feel a little better for having seen him. _I shouldn't allow myself to be miserable. Nick may make terrible dinner company, but I did enjoy a good evening with Duke Herrig and his household yesterday. If I can only repay him by solving the problem with Lord Annroy..._

Mayfair arrived at her room and was turning the knob when she heard a gasp. She jerked her head in the direction of the sound, and there she saw Natasha.

"I... I just came to visit you," she stammered out before Mayfair could even think. "I didn't know you were... out and about..."

Heart squeezing tight, she realized that Natasha was staring at her belly. It was odd. Though she had wished for this encounter to never come, she realized now that it would have been far better if it had come half a year ago. At least then, they could have taken things one at a time.

"It's alright," Mayfair said. "Now is a perfectly good time. Why don't you come inside?" She realized how stiff the words sounded compared to how she usually spoke with Natasha, but there was nothing to be done for it. She opened the door, and the two of them went in without a word. Natasha walked ahead, staring blindly at the window on the opposite side.

As soon as Mayfair had closed the door behind her, Natasha turned to face her. "You married Pr- King Nicholas."

For a moment, Mayfair felt herself caught off-guard. Then she nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" Natasha demanded, her voice already choked. "Are you in love with him?"

"You know that there's never been anything like that between us, Natasha."

"Then why? _Why?_" Natasha's voice reached an almost shrill pitch, her hands clenching into fists. "You told me never to marry a man I don't really love with all my heart. You told me that doing that would be horribly wrong, even evil! Why would you do this to yourself!"

Mayfair reached out her hands to Natasha, but she retreated. "Natasha, listen to me. It was my duty to marry Nick. Cypress needed a queen -"

"Why you? Why not someone who loves Nick? Why sign yourself to a lie?" When she failed to produce an immediate answer, Natasha pressed on, "How you sleep at night when... Oh, gods. Tell me you haven't... lain with him..."

She sighed. "Natasha, look at me. Isn't it obvious that I'm at least eight months pregnant?"

"Oh gods, I'm going to be sick!"

As Natasha covered her mouth in revulsion, Mayfair pressed, "Royal marriage can't be only about love, Natasha. Nick wanted to have the queen who would best serve his people, and he chose me. If we didn't produce an heir to the throne -"

"That's sick!" Natasha cried, so loudly that Mayfair jumped. "That's a horrible distortion of everything that marriage is for, of all the reasons for bringing a new living person into the world! How could you tell me all those things about goodness and love when you don't really believe any of it? How could you!"

Tears were already running down her face, so young and beautiful and innocent, and she turned and fled the room.

At the sound of the door slamming behind her, Mayfair could feel a piece of her heart breaking.


	6. Chapter 6: Good Friends

- Chapter 6: Good Friends -

Deanna held Natasha in his arms until the tears stopped, wishing he could do something more, wishing he could have done something to prevent this from happening at all. Wishing that she would finally say something, anything, rather than simply weeping, and at the same time fearing what she would finally say.

"Deanna," she said at last, "...do you love me?"

"Yes." Then, belatedly realizing she was only asking because she wanted him to say it, he added, "I love you."

"And not just because I love you too, and because of Carla?"

He held her tighter. "I'd love you even if... you had spurned me."

She was silent a few moments. Then she said, in a low whisper, not of hesitancy, but as if she genuinely feared someone might overhear, "Make love to me."

"What?" She repeated it, at the same volume as the first time. He hesitated, then said in a firm tone, "Not tonight."

"Please?"

"It would be wrong," he said. "You're... just upset about Mayfair. If we made love now, it wouldn't be... for love. And I'm... afraid it might even... hurt you." She didn't say anything, but he could feel that she had accepted what he said, even coming through his awkward stammer as it had. "Do you... want to talk about what happened?"

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Not tonight. Tomorrow, I promise." Her arms wrapped more tightly around him. "I love you, too." Her voice was hoarse with emotion. "So much."

* * *

><p>Nick came to see them the next morning, immediately after his usual early breakfast. They themselves had only just finished dressing in time to answer his knock; he could distinctly hear a "hold on a minute" shortly before the door opened.<p>

"Natasha." He smiled. "And Deanna. It's a pleasure to see you both."

Natasha turned to busy herself with the baby, not giving him even a returning smile. _Very odd. She and I used to be the most solid of friends. She adored me, and until now I haven't seen reason to think that's changed. Did Deanna tell her about my proposal to let Queen Anri adopt their baby?_

"I'm sorry I didn't greet you yesterday," he continued. "I had the servants inform me as soon as you arrived, but I was too busy with other matters to pay my respects. Have all your desires been seen to?"

"Yes," Deanna answered. He looked a bit more uncomfortable than usual.

"And have you, by chance, decided to accept my invitation to the museum?"

"Well..."

"I don't think so," Natasha put in. "We can stay if Deanna wants, but I'd rather be gone as soon as the party is over."

"Very well," Nick sighed. "The main reason I'm here, then. Mayfair has been in an ill mood lately... frankly, I've never seen her worse. I know that you and her were always close, Natasha, and I'm sure that seeing you would cheer her up. I don't want to rush your reunion, but I've been becoming increasingly worried about her. The sooner might be the better."

"I've already seen her."

"I see," he said, though for once, he didn't. _Mayfair was worse than ever last night. Morose, depressed, and she wouldn't talk to me about it for even a moment. Something ugly must have happened between her and Natasha, but what? What could have possibly gone wrong between those two?_ "Is there something you want to talk about, Natasha? Even if you're no longer part of Cypress, you can still talk to me about anything."

"...Why did you marry Mayfair?"

Nick and Deanna both started at the question. _That's it. Of course. Mayfair was so reluctant to marry for a reason other than love; it stands to reason that Natasha would feel at least as strongly about it. Sweet Cypress, I'm an utter fool. If I'd thought about it even a moment, I'd have realized how Natasha would feel about this._

_ What now? I could lie about my own feelings for Mayfair, but Deanna already knows the truth, and likely Natasha does as well. Besides, would it really hurt her opinion of me that much? It might even improve her opinion of Mayfair by comparison._ "For the good of Cypress," he answered.

"You don't feel anything for her at all?" she accused, turning to face him at last.

"She's one of my dearest friends." After half a moment of reflection, he added, "Accepting her duty to become queen was very difficult for her. Apart from everything else she's done, I admire her for taking on that duty." He gave a small but proud smile.

Natasha looked like she wanted to be angry with him, but couldn't. "Even if it was your duty, do you really think it was _right_ for you two to marry?"

"I always put the good of my people before everything else, Natasha." He risked approaching her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't sleep at night if I hadn't done all I could for people like you."

"...Thank you." She lowered her head. "I'd rather not talk about it anymore right now, if you don't mind."

"I understand. You wanted something other than this for Mayfair." He gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze, then turned to leave. "I'll see you two at the party this evening."

Almost as soon as Nick had closed the door behind him, Natasha collapsed into tears. Deanna grabbed ahold of her as she slumped towards the floor.

"Natasha! What is it?"

"I'm a horrible person," she sobbed.

"How?"

"I have everything." She brought a trembling hand up to try and wipe away the tears. "A wonderful husband who loves me, the most precious daughter anyone could ask for, a whole bunch of good friends. I have everything, and poor Mayfair has nothing. And all I did when I found out what she'd sacrificed was condemn her."

"You didn't mean it." He held her tight, running his fingers through her hair. "I know you. You'd never intentionally condemn someone."

"You don't even know what I said to her!"

"It's not hard to guess. Knowing you, you probably just blurted out the truth. The truth hurts, but Mayfair's strong... she accepted the truth before you said it. She'll forgive you. Whatever you said, it's not too late to change it." As he spoke, he felt her trembling begin to settle.

"Oh... How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"Me? I hardly ever -"

"You're right," she sniffed, rising to her feet and wiping away the tears. "You're right. I can fix this. I'll go to her right now and tell her I'm sorry. I'm not one of her children anymore... I'm an adult, and I can be a friend to her now."

* * *

><p><em>I handled myself rather well back there, if I do say so myself.<em> Nick took the hall in smooth, purposeful strides. _I had failed to anticipate Natasha's reaction, but there's nothing I could have done to avoid it, and that talk I gave her should alleviate any suspicion that I do not share her idealism. Natasha may no longer be of use to Cypress politically, but she and Deanna could prove valuable pieces to have in Iom, and her relationship with Mayfair is important. If Natasha approves of our marriage, Mayfair's melancholy should be far less._

"Your Majesty?" It was Varmo's voice. He slowed his walk so that the kyantol could catch up to him without running. "Your Majesty, may I have a word with you?"

"What's so urgent, Varmo?"

Varmo fiddled with his robes for an instant, then straightened into a more dignified posture. "Well, I had just heard that you had given your approval to the queen's plan to cure May."

"That's right. I gather that you intend to contribute your expertise as a mage to making that plan a reality?"

"I am always ready to devote my services to fulfilling your will, Your Majesty. But... I am concerned about some of the ethical issues involved in Queen Mayfair's plan..."

The king nodded. "As am I."

"Then... forgive me for asking, Your Majesty, but why have you approved it?"

"I have my doubts, but I am not sure whether or not doing nothing would be the greater evil. And when I am not sure, I trust in the wisdom of my queen."

"I see." Again Varmo broke from his usual dignified poise, fiddling with the sash on his robe. "Have you considered that Her Majesty's judgment in this case might be... clouded? Specifically, by guilt?"

"Because May was killed by Iom while part of a fighting unit that Her Majesty was in charge of, you mean? Of course I have."

"And?"

"However affected she might be by guilt, her reasoning on the matter is as clearheaded as ever. I have to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"You know, there are many who will be outraged at this."

"Which is why Mayfair and I will prepare a speech should there be a breakthrough in the search for this spell. Remember, this entire question may prove to be academic."

"True enough." They walked in silence for a few moments. Nick opted to take a long route to his destination so that Varmo would have a chance to say everything he had to say. "But suppose there _is_ a breakthrough, and then... things get worse. These are unknown forces we're dealing with, and something could go horribly wrong. What then?"

"We must simply pray that it does not, and be prepared to deal with it if it does."

"Hardly ideal..."

"Not in the least." He sighed. "But we must make every reasonable effort to help those who have sacrificed themselves in service to Cypress. I appreciate your concerns, minister, and I share them completely. However, in the end I must simply ask for your cooperation. Do I have it?"

"I am in no position to deny Your Majesty anything." He fidgeted again, then added, "The same principle would apply, of course, if you should ever change your mind..."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." A few moments later, he glanced to the side and saw that he had left Varmo behind.

* * *

><p>Natasha found Mayfair in Nick's chambers – the king and queen's chambers now, she supposed. She had checked there first for lack of a better idea of where to look, but was surprised to actually find her there. A servant let her in, but Mayfair dismissed her so that they could be alone.<p>

"I thought you'd be going around the castle... healing people, talking to the guards," Natasha began. "Like you always used to do."

"I need to take it easy at this stage of my pregnancy." Mayfair was seated in an armchair in a prim and simple pose, hands folded in her lap. "Natasha... must you lecture me about this? I understand how you feel, but what's done is done."

She rubbed her own hands together, looked down. "You're right. I came here to say... I'm sorry for losing my temper yesterday." She focused her thoughts on Deanna, on his strength, and that gave her the courage she needed to look up into Mayfair's eyes and say, "Marrying Nick was wrong. But you did it for what you thought was a good reason. I shouldn't have treated you like... like you'd given in to temptation, like you'd done it for yourself."

The reaction Natasha was hoping for didn't come. "You must hate me," Mayfair said, her voice motherly again, but sad. "You looked to me for your example, and I betrayed my principles."

"For Cypress's sake, Mayfair, I'm not a child anymore! Yes, I'm disappointed, even a bit hurt, but it's not like I need you to lead me through life anymore. You set me off in the right direction... I can find my way on my own now." She paused, then broke into a faint smile. "Together with Deanna, I mean."

That coaxed a brief smile out of Mayfair. "You're not just being strong for my sake?"

"Cross my heart." She bent down to embrace her former general; the hug was returned. "What you did was wrong, but it's done. And Nick tells me that you need me now."

At those words, she felt a jolt go through Mayfair's body, and the former general suddenly pushed her back. "You coming here to reconcile with me was Nick's idea?"

"Of course not! I decided to come to you on my own!"

"But did he say anything to suggest it, or lead you to that train of thought?"

"Huh? Well, I guess it was hearing from him that you were in a bad mood that made me start to think about how guilty I must have made you feel..."

"He said I was in a bad mood?"

"Something like that... I'm not sure." Her brow furrowed. "Why? Is something wrong between you two?"

A sudden smile came over Mayfair's face. "No. We're fine. I'm just... amazed that he helped bring the two of us together."

* * *

><p>"Good spirits, is there no end to how far you'll go to get what you want!" Mayfair demanded as she burst into Nick's study.<p>

"Specifics as to what you're talking about might help," Nick sighed. "And close the door behind you first, if you please."

"You told Natasha I was in a bad mood, knowing that she'd respond by trying to comfort me."

"There is something wrong with trying to help two old friends reconcile, and alleviate the troubles of my own good friend at the same time?"

"That is not why you did it," she said darkly. "You're trying to manipulate me into becoming complacent about the matter with Duke Herrig and Lord Annroy."

"You must be jesting. If I were doing something so underhanded, don't you think I'd at least take the precaution of asking Natasha not to tell you what I said to her?"

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Nick obediently set down his pen and turned in his chair to face her. "I just spoke with Varmo. He tells me you rescinded Duke Herrig's invitation to the party this evening."

"Given that the duke has been maneuvering to take Lord Annroy's lands, it seems unwise to give him the opportunity to enlist political allies."

"And it is wise to slight one of the most loyal members of the Cypress nobility?"

"If he was ever truly loyal, he is not thus now."

"So. You continue to assume his guilt." She closed her eyes, as though struggling to contain her patience. "Enough. If you will not follow reason in this matter, then I will. Inform Varmo that I will not be at the diplomatic party; I will be joining Duke Herrig's household for dinner."

"Don't do this, Mayfair. You'll be making yourself Duke Herrig's pawn, and you're expected at this party..."

"You insult my intelligence by even suggesting I could become anyone's pawn, and you insult both our intelligences by claiming my presence at a minor diplomatic affair is important. You told me that I should take it easy now that my pregnancy is nearing its end. Since your company is much more stressful than the warm companionship which I've been finding in Herrig's household, it's obvious what I should do for both myself and the good of Cypress."

Nick lay his head in his hand a moment. _Steady. You gain nothing by fighting with her; her will is as strong as yours, and in this case, she's the more stubborn._ "At least take Gyan with you."

"No. Gyan's affections lie equally with you and me, but his loyalty is entirely to you."

"Take Stock, then. I will not risk you being taken advantage of in your current state."

His words made Mayfair freeze. "Stock...?"

Nick extended a half smile, pleased at the effect this surprise had on her, but knowing it would be a mistake to let her know that he was the one responsible for it. "I was informed of his arrival but an hour ago. I gather he wanted to be here for the birth of your child, but you'll have to ask him yourself to be sure. Will you bring him?"

She hesitated, then said, "I see no reason why not to. Thank you for letting me know."

It pained him to see her hold in her joy at Stock's arrival. _Mayfair has never been too __proud to let her happiness show. Unless something is terribly wrong with her, she must simply be that angry at me._ "You're welcome. Is there anything else you wanted from me?"

Mayfair shook her head. "Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Holding Carla in both arms, Natasha leaned towards the door and, moving only her wrist, knocked on it. Three short, one long, and three short again. One of the childish secret codes they used to use - but then, this <em>was<em> a reunion.

The door cracked open. "You're late!" Vyra huffed.

"See how punctual you are when you have a little one to take care of," Natasha returned, smiling. "Now, let me in!"

"Very well. Welcome to our secret lair!"

Inside was an elegant banquet room, lined with tall windows and outfitted with two modest-sized tables upon which were set a water pitcher, two jugs of wine, and an assortment of hors d'oeuvres. Jane was seated on a high stool before one of the tables, which were naturally set to centaur height, while Dawn stood nearby with a glass of wine in hand. Both eagerly waved at her.

"Ohhh... Look!" Jane cried with delight. She hopped off of her stool and ran to get a good look at Carla, stopping to give Natasha a quick hug on the way. "You really brought her! She's beautiful."

"Thank you," Natasha blushed. "I didn't mean to make her the center of attention, but..."

"Don't be silly," Vyra said. "We all wanted to get a look at your little one. Especially Jane, since she's having one of her own now."

She gasped. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. Just found out a few weeks ago," Jane said, with more than a touch of pride. She let Carla grasp one of her fingers. "It looks like all us old girls are growing up!"

"But I didn't even know you and Theo were married! Uh... I mean, I assume it was you and Theo..."

"Indeed it was!" Vyra clapped a hand on Jane's shoulder. "You didn't think this little warrior would give up on her bashful quarry that easily, did you?"

"Hey, I've always believed in true love," Jane said, folding her arms. "Theo is who I was meant for, and that's that. ...Say, why don't we set _this_ little warrior down somewhere? Your arms are bound to get tired, Natasha."

She nodded, and Vyra showed her a cradle that she'd had brought to the room for Carla. "I hope she doesn't turn out to be a little warrior," she said as set Carla down. "We've all fought hard enough for this peace... I want it to last at least long enough for the next generation to enjoy it."

"Hey, Dawn! Why are you just standing there? Aren't you going to come over and at least say hi to our fearless chief? It's only been, oh, over a year since we last saw her."

Dawn smiled faintly and gave a little wave, but remained standing by the table with wine glass in hand. Natasha was used to the stoic knight's emotional timidity, however, so she skipped across the room and greeted her with a friendly hug.

"H-hi," Dawn stammered.

"Ohhh, it's good to see you," Natasha said, briefly tightening her grip. "All of you. It's been so long."

"It has. ...Listen, there's something I have to talk to you about. While I was on my mission escorting Lady Sarah -"

Natasha shook her head. "We don't need to talk about that stuff. I know we don't see eye-to-eye on some important things, but we can put all that aside for one day, can't we?"

"You mean... you're okay with that?" Her voice was genuinely astounded at first, but then it took on a more lighthearted tone. "You, little Miss principles, are willing to -"

"Gods, your sense of humor is as terrible as ever," she laughed. "Uh... I mean..."

"So is _your_ sense of tact," Vyra observed with a grin. "Face it; none of us will ever change."

"So how did you guys ever get a big room like this?" Natasha asked, staring around her. "Especially on the day of a diplomatic party?"

Jane smiled. "Thank Dawn. After everything she did in the war with Iom and that incident in Emild, there isn't a whole lot that King Nicholas would refuse her."

"How about we toast our war hero?" Vyra suggested, pouring a glass.

"Let's do it. Just water for me, though," Natasha put in.

"Yeah, me too," Jane added.

The glasses were filled. "Ready?" Vyra prompted, unfazed by Dawn's blushing and grimacing. "To our hero of heroes, the bravest of the brave, the fair knight who -"

She was cut off by the sound of Carla bawling. Natasha groaned, "Hold that thought. I could be wrong, but that sounds like someone has a dirty diaper."

As she went to take care of the looming stink bomb, Vyra commented, "Noisy, isn't she?"

"Hush!" Jane chided her, looming over Natasha. "She's adorable."

"Smelly, but adorable," Natasha agreed, wrinkling her nose. "Wait until you have your own, Vyra."

"Ha! At least I won't have to mess around with those diapers! It's good being a centaur."

"Sure," Jane retorted. "All you need to do is keep your babies outside so they don't do their crap on the -"

"Please! Children are present!" Natasha admonished playfully.

"Ooop! Sorry! Anyway, I'm not going to deal with diapers either. Dirty work is what husbands are for."

"I doubt he'll go for that, Jane."

"Why not? You mean you haven't trained your husband to be your personal slave yet?" she laughed.

"Be fair, Jane," Vyra said. "It's hard to say 'no' to a woman with your looks. I doubt I'll be able to get my future husband at my beck and call either. Now Dawn, on the other hand... between her natural beauty and that commanding face, I'll bet she won't even have to _ask_ to have her glass refilled and her shoes cleaned."

"Come on, you guys," Natasha protested. "Having a husband isn't about control. Deanna -"

"You're taking us too seriously again, Natasha."

Jane was opening her mouth to say something, but Dawn interrupted, "Excuse me. I'm sorry to do this to you all, but I just remembered I promised May I would visit her this morning. Don't let my leaving break up the party."

With that, she briskly trotted out the door before anyone could form a response. They stared after her in silence for a moment.

"What was that all about?" Jane spoke up.

"I'd better go after her," Natasha said. "Can you guys watch over Carla while I'm gone?"

"You're the chief!" She smiled. "No matter what, you're still the chief."

Natasha smiled back, but she was rather more concerned about Dawn at the moment. She took off down the hall and caught up with her in a matter of seconds.

"Dawn, wait," she called and, as her centaur friend obligingly halted, scampered in front of her. "Why did you run off like that? The real reason."

Dawn sighed, her eyes looking to the floor. "I came to the party because I thought it would be like old times. It's not. You and Jane are married now... you even have a kid, and Jane has one on the way."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. What's wrong is _not_ being married. Even Vyra has a steady boyfriend now, but I'm still stuck in a relationship with a man who's wrong for me."

Natasha brightened at that. "I didn't even know you had a boyfriend."

"Don't get your hopes up. He's a reformed bandit, and he still has one hoof in that old life. He's a good man at heart, but for a tightfisted enforcer of the law like me, he's a total mismatch. I've been wondering why I've kept on seeing him for this long when it's obvious we're not meant for each other. And maybe it's because I know there are no better prospects for me out there."

"Dawn..." Her stoic friend was shedding no tears, but Natasha knew her well enough to realize she was holding them in. "You can't give up that easily. You have plenty of time to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. Besides, you're hardly the only person our age who hasn't found someone. Amasia, Eric, Peppe, Binuto..."

"Binuto's dead."

"Oh..." Her hand fell upon her mouth. "I hadn't heard."

"He betrayed us while we were in Emild. You and Theo are probably the only ones who would have mourned."

"Dawn! How can you -"

"Anyway, I know I'm still young. My point is that I don't think even a lifetime is long enough for me to find someone right for me. I'm not the warmest personality in the world; I admit it. On top of that, most guys are a little intimidated by a woman recognized as a hero of Cypress twice over." She snorted. "It doesn't take much to make men feel insecure. Maybe I'm wrong about all this, but in the meantime, seeing you with your little Carla and hearing you all talking about your husbands isn't making me feel any better about myself. I'm sorry to be the party pooper, but you guys will have more fun without me."

"That isn't fair, Dawn! You know it won't be the same without you."

"It wouldn't be the same with me sitting there sulking, either. I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it, and I don't see why you want me to so badly. We're not even friends anymore; you decided that you didn't want to hang out with me anymore even before you left for Iom."

"But we used to be friends. I wanted to relive that for just one day."

Dawn shook her head. "That's a bad idea. I know you; you stopped being friends with me for a good reason, and you should stick to that. Besides, it just isn't happening." She gave a quick toss of her head and brushed past. "Goodbye, Natasha."

* * *

><p>In her cell, May knelt on the stone floor and prayed.<p>

"Help me," she pleaded. "I beg you. Free me."

In the silence, a voice she knew better now than her own heart answered, _Soon. Very soon._


	7. Chapter 7: The Birth of the Heir

- Chapter 7: The Birth of the Heir -

It wasn't until the evening following the party that Nick had the opportunity to speak to Mayfair again. She brought Stock with her to dinner, which was a bit inconvenient for the talk he had in mind, but certainly not unexpected. It was still a relatively private meal, with only the three of them and Gyan at the table.

"This looks very good," Stock said towards the opening course, a creamy vegetable stew. "Your cooks obviously take good care of you."

"I'm glad you appreciate it," Nick nodded. "A good appetite is a vital thing."

Mayfair took one spoonful of soup, as though merely to taste it, then set her spoon down. "Nick, I'd rather we skipped past the small talk this evening."

He raised his eyes to her. "Have we something important to discuss?"

"A few things. To begin with, I would like to be frank: You invited Stock to Castle Cypress for my benefit." Nick shot his eyes to Stock, who looked a bit taken off-guard himself. "No, Stock didn't tell me, nor did anyone else. It wasn't hard to deduce. And in spite of whatever self-serving reasons you may or may not have had for inviting him, I want to thank you. If nothing else, it shows that you are not as ignorant of my feelings as I may have assumed."

"He's not ignorant; he just doesn't care," Gyan quipped, in between sipping his soup. Nick gave him a dark look. Gyan grinned back. "I'm sorry. Does His Majesty prefer to be considered ignorant over insensitive?"

"I am not ignorant of Mayfair's feelings, and I _do_ care," Nick returned. "But sometimes there are more important considerations."

"I understand that, Nick," Mayfair said. "And part of my role as queen is to relieve you from some of those considerations. That is... part of my reason for spending so much time with Duke Herrig recently."

"Doing so has only added to my list of considerations."

"In the short term, yes," she nodded. "But perhaps this experience will teach you to trust me in the future."

"If you want me to trust you, you should follow my advice," he said sharply.

"On the contrary. Trust is usually established when one acts in a way distinct from how his friend would have in the same situation. If you only trust me so long as I do exactly what you would, of what use is that trust?"

Stock paused in his eating and cut in, "Mayfair, have you got any idea how stuck-up you sound right now? If you want His Majesty to listen to you, stop laying the attitude on so thick."

Nick couldn't hold back a smile at the sight of Mayfair's cheeks turning a very pretty shade of red, so he could hardly reprimand Gyan for snickering. "I didn't mean to sound condescending," she managed to murmur. "I suppose I could have avoided that by coming to the point right off. I've arranged for most of the lands under dispute to be turned over to Duke Herrig."

The smile was torn from Nick's face. Even Gyan seemed stunned.

"Lord Annroy came here this morning, by my invitation," she went on, pulling forth a small document. "I was able to convince him to sign over the lands in question. He does not know that Herrig ever claimed the lands were his by right, so take care never to mention the incident to him."

"So," Nick said, trying to analyze all this as fast as he could, "...you discovered that Herrig was lying."

"I don't know whether he was lying or not. Since we're trying to avert a fight, not start one, it doesn't truly make a difference. If your usual good judgment were not clouded by your emotions, you would have realized that too, Nick." Her tone was genuinely modest, not condescending at all. It almost sounded as though she admired him for how he _would_ have handled the situation in different circumstances. "I approached Herrig with an open and sympathetic mind, so he was open to compromise with me. I did not hand over all the lands he asked for, but he is satisfied, and even a bit grateful, I think. We _do_ want his support, don't we?"

"Yes," the king admitted. "But I would have preferred to have it without giving him whatever he wants."

"He wasn't asking for all that much, and we didn't give him all he asked for," she replied. "Finding something to give Annroy in exchange was a bit more difficult, and had you been more... amicable about the issue, I would have asked your advice. Of course, given how unreasonable I was being, your defensiveness is understandable. Fortunately, the solution proved to be fairly simple. First, Herrig has allowed the laborers on those lands to remain in Annroy's service. I need not remind you of the casualties from the wars against Woldol and Iom; like many lords of Cypress, Annroy is short-handed, and lacked the laborers to fully harvest those lands in any case. Herrig's territory is better manned, and besides, I suspect acquiring the disputed lands was largely a matter of possessiveness for the duke."

"On that point, you may be certain."

Mayfair frowned. "If you were to spend a few evenings with him, as I have, I think you would not so thoroughly condemn Duke Herrig. He has his faults, but he is wise, gracious, and respectful to his servants." Nick decided it would be best to let that pass, at least for the moment. "As for Annroy, it turns out that one of his greatest concerns is for his son's welfare. So Duke Herrig and his wife have agreed to take him under their wing until he comes of age; that will ensure the boy has a good education and a better chance at marrying someone of noble blood. Perhaps he will even be considered as a spouse for Peppe. Through my visits to their household, I discovered that the duke and his wife find it a bit lonely in their household at present, which helped give me the idea. They are pleased with this end of the bargain as well." She paused for a spoonful of soup. "This solves the problem, doesn't it?"

Nick looked at her with quiet admiration. She was again as he had always known her: Wise, calm, collected. Knowing she couldn't simply have come to her senses on her own, he wondered if Stock had something to do with this. That was likely, but nonetheless, he was impressed.

"You've handled the matter admirably," he said, the words both praise and admission. "This more than sets my mind at ease. My apologies... for having doubted you."

Stock gulped down a spoonful of soup. "How about that. For once, Nick actually admitted he was wrong."

"That's only because he rarely _is_ wrong," Mayfair said. "Besides, the fault for this was largely mine. If I hadn't..." She froze, a look of shock congealing on her face. Even before her breathing began to quicken, Nick understood, and was moving to his feet.

"Gyan, watch after her," he said. "I'll summon the midwife and attendants."

* * *

><p>Nick sat on a chair in the hall outside, far more anxious than he was willing to let on. This was a moment of triumph for him: the birth of a successor, an heir to the throne. He had at last accomplished the single most important task of his life, succeeded where his two siblings had failed. He had sired a successor to the throne, a continuation of the legitimate bloodline of Cypress. And yet, he was filled with trepidation.<p>

What would the boy be like? Wise and strong, certainly; his parentage, and his mother in particular, ensured that. What worried Nick was what the boy would be like in his own eyes. _Will he be someone that I can... love?_

For a long time now, he had only loved his father, and perhaps his sister Jenny. And they were both dead. The thought of being able to love a living person made him almost tremble with anticipation.

"Cousin Nicholas?" Barro reached and grasped at his hand. "How long is it going to be?"

"Probably a while, Barro," he replied. "This is her first time."

Of course, he didn't really know for sure; he had been too young when his siblings were born. But he understood that it was not an easy process, and Mayfair's body was inexperienced in the ordeal it was going through.

Barro sighed. "I don't like waiting."

"Well, you'll simply have to get used it," Nick said, glancing over at Deanna, who was seated on the opposite side of the hall. He wished he would either say something or leave, but the taciturn Iomite remained silent and still, and Nick couldn't reasonably expect otherwise. After all, Natasha was in there keeping Mayfair company. Not that Nick approved of that part of it, either; when in labor, the queen should only be in the company of those facilitating the royal birth. But Natasha had brushed aside his objections on the grounds that Mayfair "needs our support", and the days where he could order Natasha as her king were obviously gone.

Stock and Gyan were also waiting outside, of course, and provided scarcely better conversation than Deanna. Gyan no doubt would have liked talking up Deanna and Stock, but as the Royal Protector, he was forbidden to speak to anyone other than the Royal Family of Cypress except when necessary for the good of the country. Gyan wasn't exactly a stickler for rules, and Nick had let that particular one slide on occasion, but now was not the time for it.

With little he could comfortably say in this company, Nick gave Barro only a half smile that he hoped would be reassuring. Barro smiled back; he was not a particularly strong or wise boy, but he made the best he could of things, and there was certainly plenty of love in him. For a moment, Nick felt happy on a more personal level than he was used to feeling, and he cherished that.

Then Natasha came out, face slightly flushed, one hand holding up the skirt of her robes. Nick and Deanna both shot to their feet.

"It's okay," she said, then looked directly at Nick. "It's almost time for the final push. She wants you to be with her."

He shook his head. "The queen should have no need for moral support. My mother delivered all three of her children with my father absent."

"She said you'd say that," Natasha replied, with a slightly smug smile - apparently she still regarded Mayfair with daughterly pride. "And she said to tell you that with her having to put up with so much pain, the least you can do is not imitate your father for once and show your face."

Nick considered a moment, then nodded in resignation and followed Natasha into the room. No doubt she and the others would assume "so much pain" to mean her labor, but Nick suspected that what Mayfair really meant was the emotional pain she had endured throughout their marriage, and especially now that she was now bearing his child.

What he found in the room nearly took him aback. Mayfair was laid out on a bed, legs spread, chest heaving for breath, sweat streaking her face and even her hair. He had never seen her like this before, and it seemed almost unnatural. Attendants were hard at work all around her, but even so, it looked quite undignified.

He stepped up to the bed. "I should not be here," he said to Mayfair.

"You can't... think of anything better to say than that?" she panted.

"I'm sorry. I know that you're not -"

"Don't be sorry," she cut him off. "And good spirits, don't tell me what you think you know, especially about me. Just give me your hand."

He complied, but said, "I didn't think you'd need this."

"I don't." She gripped his hand tight and spoke forcefully, each sentence coming out in a harsh rush of breath. "I want it. I want you to have been here. I want you to be unable to just turn your head and close your eyes while I'm working hard to bring our son into the world. Do you understand? He isn't just my son, or your heir. He's _our_ son. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He squeezed her hand back. "I do."

But his anxiousness and excitement remained, even in her normally calming presence, and it was all he could do to keep his hand from shaking.

Mayfair turned her head to the ceiling, still holding his hand, and with what seemed a result of deliberate effort on her part, the final contractions began.

It was a strange, remarkable scene. Though Nick had never seen a delivery before, he knew it was expected for the mother to cry out, even scream. Mayfair did not. She sweated, gritted her teeth, grasped Nick's hand very tightly, and periodically let out a small gasp of air, but she did not allow even one cry to get past her lips.

This was unexpected, but in retrospect, he couldn't imagine Mayfair handling herself any differently. It was fitting that a woman of such unshakable strength should deliver her child without losing her composure, and Nick was thoroughly pleased.

Then, at last, their boy was brought out into the world, and he was certainly not as quiet about it as his mother was. The head came first, and it was disappointingly small, no bigger than Nick's fist. Before long, the midwives had extracted the whole child, a squirming, bawling mass of scrawny, misshapen limbs and undeveloped torso. Nick felt...

Nothing.

The boy was handed over to his mother. She released Nick's hand and took the baby in her arms with a brighter smile than he had seen on her since they were married. "Good spirits, he's wonderful! Look at him, Nick! Just look at him!"

Her instruction was unnecessary, but all Nick felt when he looked at the boy was cold disappointment. He willed his heart to feel something, even guilt or fatherly anxiety, but there was nothing. All he could think about was how small and weak the boy looked.

An attendant with paper and pen in hand tapped King Nicholas on the shoulder and asked, "May I have the boy's name?"

It embarrassed Nick to realize that he didn't know. He and Mayfair had discussed names some weeks before. He had suggested Gadrios, which she had firmly opposed. Not being one for naming, he had told her to come up with a name herself and let him know when she had. But she hadn't let him know, and he hadn't thought to ask. The only answer he could give the attendant was to look to Mayfair for help.

She smiled, sweetly and very lovingly. "Eli."

The attendant nodded and wrote it down. Nick realized that Mayfair was looking at him in expectation, and said, "It is a good name." She still seemed to be waiting for something. "You... have done well, in giving me an heir. Our son will no doubt make a worthy king. Now, since I am no longer needed here, you must excuse me, for I have... duties to attend to."

There was little doubt in his mind that all eyes were on him as he left. It had been a weak excuse, he knew, but the truth - that it was important for him to have his much delayed dinner, if he was to continue functioning at the peak of his potential - would have sounded crude and unworthy. Besides, he had needed to get out of there, for he could already feel tears of frustration and self-disgust brimming in his eyes. Once outside, he brushed past Natasha and Gyan without a word, and hurried onward towards the dining room.

Nothing - he'd felt nothing, for his own first born child. Only disappointment at his smallness, his lack of visible strength, had filled his mind. _And what more foolish thought could there be, when he has at least 15 years to grow and train towards a toned body that equals or even surpasses my own? When his mind, of which I know nothing, is the more crucial element to being a king?_

There was a serving girl standing wait by the dining room. "The queen is perfectly well, and has delivered a healthy son," he told her, marveling that those words did not fill him with joy, as they should have. "Have the rest of my dinner brought to my study."

With that, he swept on past before his face could betray his feelings, or lack thereof. He made his way to his study without further encounters, though he was sure that Gyan must be following after him. Once there, he closed and locked the door behind him and then, at last, he had a minute or two where he could allow himself to weep in silence. To let the tears wash away his selfish grief.

Nick had never thought it would be necessary for him to love his wife. The fact that he didn't love Mayfair bothered him only moderately. But surely, it was wrong for him to not love his own son. His own father, King Gadrios the first, had not loved his mother, but he had certainly loved all the children he had with her.

An heir to the throne had been delivered, a continuation of his father's prestigious line. He should be proud for Cypress. Instead, he only felt ashamed for himself.


	8. Chapter 8: Man With No Heart

- Chapter 8: Man With No Heart -

"Hey! Everyone! Behave!" Mayfair stood with fists on her hips, like an irate teacher. "It's the most historic museum in Cypress."

Indeed it was: the masonry, the architecture, the general layout were all unmistakeable. But there seemed to have been a complete supplantation of the exhibits: they now consisted entirely of statues of his old enemies. Woldol, Dantom, Edmond, Prince Saul, Leifo, Iom, Bazoo, King Warderer, Daemon. They all seemed to stare at him, accusing, condemning.

None of his friends seemed ill at ease. They were all there: Gyan, Ruce, Claude, Shade, Yeesha, Natasha, Deanna, even the Lady Sarah and Lord Galen. And in complete defiance of the dread Nick felt, they were cheerful, excited, fully engaged in seeing what the museum had to offer.

Even this disturbingly superficial peace didn't last long. A loud tremor went through the building, and the statues of his enemies glowed with a horrid vibrancy of living flesh. They began to move, and the museum partitions, plaques, and other trappings crumbled around them.

He heard Mayfair cry out, "Oh, what's going on?" Spinning around, he saw her feeling the air around her, groping, and he realized that she was blind once more. "... Nick! Are you all right?"

She tripped on a piece of debris and fell to the floor. "Mayfair, hold on! I'm coming!" he called, but as he moved to her aid, a heavy armored hand caught his shoulder and threw him to the floor.

"Leaving your back unguarded, King Nicholas? How disappointing." It was Geppel, standing over him and holding a broad sword to his throat. "The son of the great King Gadrios, and you can't even employ basic strategy."

Presumably he intended to follow that up with cutting Nick's throat, but Ruce dove into the fray with an axe stroke that knocked the point of Geppel's blade away from Nick. "Help Mayfair, Nick! I'll handle this second-rate general!"

Nick rolled to his feet and ran in Mayfair's direction, only to find her gone. Before he could form a conclusion as to her most likely fate, a dark blur moved at him. He parried, narrowly missing a blow from his father's former protector, Dantom.

"Forgive me, my prince," Dantom growled, "...but I must defend my king."

"_I_ am your king, Dantom!" he rejoined, moving as swift as he could to defend himself, while ever searching for the rare opportunity to make a retaliating strike. But before long, he realized that Dantom's attacks were slower than normal, little more than halfhearted feints. He pressed against this vulnerability, and in short order lodged his blade in Dantom's belly.

"Justice," Nick whispered. "Vengeance. For my father."

Dantom shook his head as he slipped to the floor. "I could not hurt you... I certainly could not hurt your father. I did only what I felt my duty to Cypress compelled me to. But you knew that... all along..."

Nick pulled the blade from Dantom's corpse and turned to the man he had been protecting, Edmond. It was over in a moment; his uncle had not even his sword and shield to defend himself.

"Me too, Nicholas?" Edmond gurgled on his own blood. "You knew from the beginning that it was Woldol behind everything... How many more murders will you justify under the pretext of avenging your father?"

"I... I don't know!" he cried. "However many it takes to get me what I want!"

"Is this what you want, Nicholas?" called a voice he knew all too well. It was Woldol, in his skeletal form, though for whatever reason his voice was as it had been when he was alive. In his deathly clutches he held Mayfair, staring blindly around her in terror. "A pleasing romance, a girl you can sweep away to your marvelous castle and indulge in the happily ever after of marital bliss with? Is it your true love that you desire, my king? Hmm?" He gave a glance to the left and then the right. "If so, it's a shame you had to sacrifice so much to get even this close to it."

"It's not a lover that I most desire, Woldol," he said, his resolve strengthening, hands gripping more tightly around his sword. "But I _will_ make you let her go."

He leapt forward, the Sword of Hajya slashing through Woldol's decayed form, bones cracking in two and falling to the ground. The deathly hold on Mayfair was released, and light filled her eyes, restoring her sight. Nick pulled her to him with one arm, keeping his grip on the Sword of Hajya with the other.

"I've won, Woldol. The kingdom of Cypress is... mine?"

Nick looked around himself in shock. They were all dead - all of them. Not just his friends, but all of his people, every last man, woman, and child of Cypress. Their bodies stretched out as far as he could see, and his enemies scavenged among the remains.

"Do you now see the price of your desires, Your Majesty?" Woldol's grinning skull addressed him from the floor. "Do you see how in your quest for your own happiness, you have utterly failed in your responsibility?"

"For once, Ambassador Woldol speaks the truth," a hard voice said, and Nick's father materialized before him. "You are a disappointment beyond all telling, my son. I told you over and over to commit yourself fully to taking my place, but you wouldn't listen. This is the result. Of what value now is anything you've won?"

"I... I'm sorry..."

"Don't listen to him, Nick!" Mayfair reached up to grip him by the shoulders, turning him to face her. "You tried. Maybe it wasn't enough, but you tried. And I don't care that you've lost everything..." She kissed him on the cheek. "All I want is your heart."

She then reached into his chest to take the organ in question. Her brow furrowed as she worked her arm all around the inside of his torso, clearly not finding what she was looking for.

"You may give up in your search, child," his father said. "He does not have one."

She recoiled from Nick, a look of utmost disdain on her face. "A man with no heart is not a man at all. Did you truly think I would give myself to someone like you?"

Nick looked down at the bloodstained blade of his sword. "I didn't want to be this way. I tried to love people... but I needed to be the best king I could be, for Cypress..."

"Don't lie to yourself, Nick."

At the sound of that voice, a chill went through him. "Jenny?"

His sister stood before him, a dozen daggers lodged in her flesh at various points. "Our father had a heart, and he was the greatest king Cypress ever had. That isn't why you gave away your ability... to feel... love." A tear rolled from her eye. "What Woldol's men did to me hurt, Nick. But what hurt even more... Right up until you abandoned me, I never stopped believing that you loved me. And even then..."

_No. Gods no, Jenny. I beg of you, don't say it..._

"...I never stopped loving you."

* * *

><p>"...it's time to get up. Open your eyes." It was Mayfair's voice. Nick opened his eyes and sat up. "Good morning, Nick. You overslept again."<p>

"Did I?" He rubbed his eyes. He'd overslept almost every night since Mayfair gave birth. "Where is my son?"

"_Our_ son," Mayfair said pointedly, "...is with Yeesha."

"Not being fed by her, I hope."

"Nick! Are you ever going to let that one go? I told you, I'll nurse him. It's not as though you gave me any choice."

"My apologies." He got out of bed and went to his dresser. "I have been nervous about him ever since he was born. I had thought that I was fully prepared to have a son; obviously I am not."

"I think the only way you can be prepared for having a child is if you've already had one. Experience will be your teacher," she said. "Nick, did you have a nightmare?"

He paused, one of the drawers half-open. "What makes you ask that?"

"You have sweat on your face, neck, and nightgown. And I don't remember your face being that pale on the mornings that I woke up beside you."

He hadn't been aware of the perspiration until she had pointed it out. Pulling a handkerchief out of a drawer, he answered, "Yes. It was a nightmare."

"What was it about?"

"I don't know. I remember parts of it, but they're fragments that don't fit well together." There was, however, one important point which he did remember. He closed his eyes as he wiped the handkerchief over his face. "Jenny... my sister... she never stopped loving me."

"Of course she didn't."

"But I had stopped loving her. I betrayed her; I wouldn't even stand up for her in her decision to marry the man she loved." He shifted the handkerchief to work the back of his neck. His voice was thick with sorrow and frustration. "I didn't care about anyone but myself. How could she keep on loving me when that love wasn't returned? Wasn't her suffering enough?"

Mayfair sighed. "You shouldn't think of love as such a negative, Nick. If she loved you, that should tell you that there is something in you deserving of love. She could not suffer from losing you unless you gave her something to lose." Nick was silent. She walked to the window and parted the drapes. "Look outside the window. What a beautiful day! Why don't you go spend some time outside with Barro and Eli?"

"Eli would be better off with you. If not with you, then any servant would as make as good a caretaker as myself."

"He needs to spend time with his father."

Nick tossed the handkerchief down and began getting himself dressed. "Mayfair, we've discussed this. I can't be that sort of father for him. Trying would be a simple waste of time."

"You're giving up far too easily, on both yourself and your son."

"I've been telling myself that I have a heart for over two years," he said wearily, "...and you tell me that I'm giving up too easily? I would say, rather, that I have been too stubborn."

"Good spirits. If no one else, you obviously love Barro, Gyan, and your people. Now stop using this 'heartless' nonsense as an excuse and spend some time with your son and cousin. It will be good for you."

"I feel nothing for my son."

"You will. Your love just takes a little time to grow. Now, not one more word. Your nightmare obviously had something to do with your feeling that you don't love anyone. If you want the nightmare to truly go away, then you need to get out there and at least pretend that you love people until you realize that you actually do."

"Hmm." He put on his cape. "And why have you not yet suggested that I apply that practice towards you?"

"Because..." Her gaze lowered slightly. "...because you genuinely don't love me. Not as a wife, at least. It is possible to learn to love someone that way, but you can't, because you don't believe it."

"I don't believe it because it's not true. Love is not so manipulable."

"I'm not going to argue the point with you." She straightened up. "Now get going. Barro will be up soon to have breakfast with you."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said, and his tone conveyed that his thanks was for her pushing him to spend time with his son. He valued her as queen for her ability to set him straight, but she had that power over him as a friend, too. He thought, for the thousandth time, of how wise and beautiful she was.

She gestured towards the door, and he headed in that direction. When he got there, however, he paused. He cleared his throat. "If you feel ready, I would like for you to return to sharing my bed tonight."

"What?" There was an uncomfortable silence. "But... you have your heir."

Nick gave her a half smile. "Mayfair, my father sired three children, and it was still only by luck and the most skillful of maneuvering that even one survived to inherit the throne. And you would lay the future of Cypress upon only one child?" He shook his head. "I won't feel that I've satisfied my duty to Cypress until I have at least four children."

She just stared at him blankly, as though lost.

The half smile fled from his face. "Mayfair? Are you all right?"

She came to herself and looked up into his eyes. "Nick, I... I don't feel ready for it tonight. Could it wait... just two more nights, please?"

"Of course. Are you all right?" he pressed.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Mayfair..."

"Go," she said. "Stop wasting time. Barro will be waiting for you. Go."

Something was clearly not quite right, but the more she brushed his concern off, the more weary he felt of this, and the more he realized that he didn't truly care. His conscience kept telling him to show a husband's concern for Mayfair, or at least a friend's concern, but his heart, if he had one, was silent.

He left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>With Nick gone, Mayfair sat heavily upon his bed - or rather, the bed that had been prepared for him to sleep in so that she could have the royal bed to herself.<p>

_How could I have been so foolish... to assume my duty to Cypress would be satisfied by only one child? And that Nick would let it end there, even if it were otherwise. I've sensed his desire for me as a woman since before we were wed; it's only natural that he would want to have more than one child with me. May the Light help me, I want that myself. I don't know if it has to do with Nick specifically, or if it's simply that few things have felt as natural to me as bearing a child, but when he asked me to return his bed, I felt... excitement._

_ And pain. I didn't think it would hurt so much... for Nick to still be so cold, even after I've given him his first child. I kept my dignity through my labor, not letting out even one cry, just to please Nick. But he said nothing. It's not that he doesn't ever openly acknowledge the things I do for him, but it feels like any time that my feelings are on the line, he ignores those things. __Why couldn't he at least _pretend_ to love Eli? I suffered so much to conceive that dear boy, and then to give birth to him... Why couldn't Nick tell me that our child means something to him and not just to Cypress?_

It was so confusing. She yearned to again share sexual intercourse with Nick, and to give him more of the children he wanted, but she knew that while this was for the good of Cypress, for them personally it would only mean more hurt and pain. She loved Nick - not in the way of a wife for her husband, but in every other way possible - and could do no less than persist in these gestures of that love, no matter how much it hurt when he accepted those gestures as nothing more than the fulfillment of her duty as queen.

She stood. _There is no point in dwelling on this. All would be solved if Nick felt some measure of the love I feel for him, but he never will. All that remains, then, is for me to endure, as I always have. And to not let my baser desires get the better of me._

Taking a deep breath, she was about to go out the door when there was a knock on it. She hesitated a moment, then said, "Enter."

Yeesha stepped in and gave her an informal bow. "Your Majesty -"

"Just Mayfair, please. We've been through too much together for formalities."

"Oh." Yeesha bent her fingers together, studying them in thought. "Well... I appreciate the sentiment, but Nick prefers me to call him 'Your Majesty', and we've known each other since we were children. If I'm to be so formal with him..."

"I understand. At least, I think I do." A pitcher of water had been left on the bedside table; she poured herself a cup and offered one to Yeesha, who declined. After taking a drink, she said, "If it's Nick you're worried about -"

"Oh, no. I don't think he's so uptight that he'd object to that. It's just that it makes me uncomfortable, that's all."

"Very well," she sighed. "'Your Majesty' it is, then. What did you want to speak to me about? I thought you were looking after Eli."

"Nick took him off my hands." _Of course,_ Mayfair thought to herself. _Where is my head today?_ "Before he did, though, one of the mages I was working with on May's problem passed along that we've had a breakthrough."

"Wonderful. What is it?"

"We can do it. We just need a body."

"Already?"

"You and Duke Herrig assembled quite a few experts in the field. It turns out that between the lot of us, most of the groundwork had already been done. It's just that no one ever wanted to use a spell like this before now. For obvious reasons." She folded one hand over the other. "So, do we have a body?"

"That is a sticky point, isn't it?" Mayfair admitted. "Even if they happen to agree with what we're doing in principle, I can't imagine anyone would volunteer their loved one's corpse for such a purpose. And quite frankly, I can't ask any Cyprian to make such a sacrifice. This spell has never been used before, and we can't be sure what it will do to the host body." She paused. _How odd, that only now do I feel the moral weight of what we're doing._ "That leaves us with no easy option but to exhume one of the traitors who died in the civil war."

Yeesha raised an eyebrow. "You sound reluctant. I thought you, of all people, would have no problem with that part of the plan."

"Traitors are the most despicable of any who walk this world, and those who did so for the worship of Iom are the worst of traitors. But even they do not deserve to have the repose of the grave disturbed." She sighed. "But May sacrificed her life, her free will, her very soul to the good of Cypress, a nation not her own. If she's willing to have this done to save her, then we are bound by debt to do so."

"So if Cypress owes someone a debt, we have to do anything they ask, no matter what it is?"

"No, not anything," Mayfair acknowledged. "But just because I am reluctant to take this course doesn't mean I am unwilling, and Nick has promised to support me."

"So will I. But what about the rest of Cypress?"

"We'll just have to explain it to them and hope that they understand."

"Good enough, I suppose," Yeesha said, smiling unconvincingly. "While I'm here, I was wondering... What did you and His Majesty think of how Varmo handled the diplomatic party?"

"Well, we haven't really discussed that. But he did well enough, I suppose. I certainly can't think of any complaints. Why?"

Yeesha's smile sickened somewhat, as though hating both the question and answer equally. "To be honest, I keep hoping he'll screw up badly enough that you'll take away his title. I'd rather face an honest-to-goodness enemy than an obnoxious jerk like him. At least with an enemy, I have an excuse to get rid of him."

"Yes, well... You'll put up with him?"

"Of course. He's not really a problem for me since His Majesty revoked my exile. It just... makes me angry to see him in charge."

"I understand. But please, be patient with him. He has the potential for great good inside him; I know it."

Yeesha laughed brightly. "You have faith in all the youths here. Even now that they're growing up."

"When you show faith in young people, they have a remarkable tendency to prove themselves worthy of it."

"If you say so, teacher." She ended her laughter with a graceful breath, and it struck Mayfair as a bit odd that this spirited and beautiful woman had no romantic attachments as of yet, while she, a dull, petite woman with not a single coquettish instinct in her, was married to none less than King Nicholas. "Speaking of which, I have an appointment with one of my students to prepare for, so if you'll excuse me...?"

"Of course."

As she left, Mayfair pondered who she would need to speak to about having a body exhumed for May.

* * *

><p>May felt almost deaf to Natasha's words, as though she were talking from the shoreline of a lake, and May was under the water. The young human spoke of events in the palace, visits to museums, new friends she and her husband (standing silently beside her, a sympathetic look on his face) had found in Iom, and most of all, her daughter Carla, but it was all irrelevant. None of it mattered in light of her imminent freedom. May listened and nodded and smiled at the appropriate points, but it was all for Natasha's benefit.<p>

Two guards stood at a polite distance, but they were as irrelevant as Natasha's words. It saddened May that she felt this way, but the endless months of serving Iom against her friends had worn her down. She was grateful to Iom for giving her her life, and more importantly, she was sympathetic to him, but devoting her entire soul to him while he hungered for the lives of her friends and her king was ripping her in two. It was hard to care about anything besides being freed from this dilemma.

Her heart beat with excitement as the one person in the room who was key to her freedom approached. "It's time to reapply the Dispel magic to her cell," he said to Natasha.

She nodded, and the two of them took up positions at opposite sides of May's cell. The spell was advanced, elaborate, requiring both mages to recite full incantations; to cast the spell with a single word would take a mage who, like May, had both decades of experience and the power of a god behind her. This was because of the spell's longevity. Whereas most magic was momentary, even if its effects were not, this one was meant to last for days.

The two mages stepped back. "May I have a minute with May alone?" he asked Natasha. She nodded, obviously drained from the casting, and Deanna stepped forward to put a supporting arm around her.

"Are you... okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Thank you for coming," May said to them. "It was a pleasure. Deanna, you will be there when they cast the spell freeing me from Iom, won't you?"

"I... have to watch Carla while that happens," he answered. "But Natasha... will be there." That was a given; Natasha was one of those who would be casting the spell. The two of them waved farewell and moved out of the way. May felt relieved to see them go.

At last, the one she wanted to speak to approached the cell.

"I don't want to be here," he said. "Or be doing this."

"I'm very sorry. I feel exactly the same way." She shook her head. "But just do what you're instructed to, and it will soon be over. For both of us."

"As if I have any choice in the matter." He sighed. "I almost feel angry at the king and queen for this oversight. They shouldn't have assigned the same person to both reinforcing your cell and crafting the spell which is supposed to free you from Iom's power. They should have accounted for the possibility of you planting a traitor."

"There aren't many mages who can perform either, so I'm not sure they had a choice. Besides, I'm sure you noticed how Deanna and Natasha seem to have forgotten that even though I long to be free of his influence, I genuinely love Iom as well. Very likely the king and queen are the same way. Now, forgive my rudeness, but let us get to the point; it will look suspicious if we carry this conversation too long. Have your alterations to your research led your team down the desired path?"

"Yes. They all have no reason to suspect the spell will do anything other than transfer your soul to the new body. However, as you suggested, I also need to plant a spell on the body for this to work. And they haven't got a body yet." He hesitated. "Of course, now that the spell is ready, they'll be quick to acquire one. But there will be protest from the people of Cypress."

"That won't stop this from happening." May's faith in Iom assured her of it.

"But _you_ could," he pointed out. "I'm helpless against the hypnotic suggestion you planted, but you still have a choice. It would cost your life, but you could defy Iom's will and end this. Most of the people of Cypress wish you would."

"Excuse me, but where did you get the information that the people of Cypress are so coldhearted?" she retorted. She immediately felt guilty for this sarcasm, however. Yes, his remark had been inexcusably callous, but that did not give her the right to be rude. "...Forgive me. The truth of it is, I don't want to die, and I do love Iom."

"So much so that you'd turn on your allies, and force me to do the same?"

"Even if worse comes to worst, none of them will be any worse off than if I hadn't given my life in defeating Iom a year and a half ago." She bowed her head, as if in silent prayer. "And... I have an idea, of sorts. If all goes well, I will be freed, Iom's will shall be done, and no harm will come to any who helped me."

He snorted. "How can you not see that those last two things are in complete opposition?"

"They are not. You only think they are because you have not seen Iom's plan, as I have." She closed her eyes, this time preparing to enter a prayer for real. "The good of Iom and his servants lies in the future."


	9. Chapter 9: Black Magic

- Chapter 9: Black Magic -

The body lay in the center of the room. It seemed to stare up at them all.

"Did it have to be a foxling?" Luke whispered to Natasha. "Heck, did it have to be a female?"

"I don't know, and there's no reason for us to take our chances," she returned, keeping her voice even and firm.

She did it very well. But...

"I get the feeling that remark nettled Natasha more than she's letting on," Nick murmured to Mayfair.

"Luke loves getting a rise out of people, and Natasha knows better than to give him the satisfaction," she answered. "Very observant of you to pick up on that, Nick. So you and Natasha are still friends?"

Neither "yes" nor "no" felt like a fully honest answer to that question, so he said, "She is still useful to me."

Mayfair nodded. "...It was good of them all to come, to support May. All of them besides Randolf, Rohde, and the Lady Sarah, that is. Of course, Rohde couldn't possibly have come on such short notice... We're lucky that Chester was able to make it in time, and luckier that Deanna and Natasha happened to be here at the time. Not just because Natasha can help with the casting, of course."

"You seem jittery. By your standards, that is."

"Good spirits, how can you _not_ be? What we're attempting is -"

"Black magic. As I've told you."

"No, it's not. But it's very risky, not to mention controversial."

"Don't worry on that count." He shifted to a slightly more comfortable position in the seat that had been prepared for him. "Our speech was convincing, if not of the rightness of our course, then at least of our moral convictions in taking it. And this is going to work; I am sure of it."

Mayfair fidgeted in her own seat. "How can you suddenly be so sure of this?"

He chose to treat that as a rhetorical question. The truth was, his good mood was largely thanks to the night before, during which he had mated with Mayfair for the first time in months. Twice, in fact. After such a long period of abstinence, he had difficulty containing his excitement; because of this, the first time was wonderful but over all too quickly. He had resolved from their wedding day to limit himself to once per night, to be fair to her, but his desire felt not at all sated this time. Aching for more, he told himself it wouldn't hurt to break his pledge just this once. She had been surprised when he reached for her again, but did not rebuff him, as she would have if he was asking more than she felt was appropriate.

The second time was beyond description. With the edge of his desire filed off by the first, he was able to take his time, savoring every inch of Mayfair's flawlessly formed body and soaking in every glorious moment within her loins. As he rested afterwards, he felt certain that no man had ever been so satisfied by the act of sex as he was that night. It was not just a matter of the physical pleasure, either, but also the quality of the woman who carried his seed.

So good was his mood that, when he noticed Mayfair trembling next to him in the bed, he put his arms around her without hesitation, even though she had rejected this familiarity before, and he stroked her until her disquiet subsided. Even though this impulse came from the natural masculine urge to comfort rather than any form of genuine affection, it was enough to make him forget the gaping hole where his heart should have been.

All these experiences shoveled a nice piece of earth for him to bury the stresses of the past few weeks in, allowing him to tell himself that after all, the situation with May would turn out right in the end. The means they were using were questionable, but not reprehensible, and wouldn't it all be worth it when May was well and able to return home to Emild?

The king settled back and addressed the mage in charge. "How much longer until you can proceed, Liam?"

The short, violet-haired elf raised his arms slightly higher in response. "Just a few minutes more, Your Majesty. In theory, it should be possible for one mage alone to cast this spell, as with any other. But as this is our first trial with it, I need Yeesha and Natasha here to guide my casting, to reduce what would otherwise be a very high probability of error on my part. That requires us all to attune ourselves to each other, which takes time. Though it would help if there are no interruptions."

"So be it." He cast an authoritative look over those assembled in the Chamber of Casting, lingering especially long over Luke and Jaha.

A long silence began. May was strapped to a bed on one side of the room, with Chester and a priest, Slade, keeping watch over her. Her eyes were closed in acceptance, submission. Yet she was the danger Nick felt the most concerned about. So long as Iom held sway over her, there was no telling what she might do to prevent her own liberation. Nor any telling what limits there were to her power with Iom behind her.

Chester shot a look first at Liam, then at Nick. He read a glimmer of mistrust there; very likely the elf didn't approve of the riskiness of this solution. But the hope there far outweighed the mistrust. He wanted May to be well again, and would be immediately grateful to King Nicholas and all of Cypress once she was.

The air felt tense, electric; not in an emotional or ethereal sense, but a very real sensation of magical energy suffusing the distance between Liam, Natasha, and Yeesha. It felt right, and according to plan.

He could feel the energy coursing for almost a full minute before Liam announced, "Your Majesty, may we proceed?"

The king looked to his wife; it was her idea, after all, and apart from simple formality, she should have the final opportunity to call the whole thing off. Understanding his look, the queen nodded and said, "If May is ready, then you may proceed."

"I'm ready," May said, her voice oddly hoarse. "Hurry!"

Liam began chanting. Nick's gaze ran over all those assembled, and it struck him that someone was missing. It took him only a moment to pinpoint who it was.

"Where's Deanna?" he asked Mayfair. "Why isn't he with Natasha?"

"He's looking after Carla, their daughter," she replied. "This is no place for a child to be. Why do you think I left Eli in the servants' care?"

He nodded. _Of course. Any man with real fatherly instincts would have known that. So why... Why do hearing those words, "no place for a child to be", make me feel uneasy all of the sudden?_

The air was beginning to feel thick. The space between May, Liam, and May's host body was crackling, almost out of synch with the physical realm. Gyan, as always beside him with his arms folded, gave a shiver. It struck him that his old friend and protector hadn't uttered a word since they'd entered the room. Not even one quip or blunt observation. Gyan seemed honestly scared by what they were doing. Not enough so to voice any objection, but scared nonetheless.

The chant finished. May let out a cry that was oddly cut off. Her body fell still and her host body ever so slightly began to twitch its fingers. In the same moment, Liam gasped and fell straight onto his face.

Questioning murmurs pounded through those assembled. They were unsure whether or not this was an expected part of the procedure; Nick knew that it wasn't, but dared not show any sign of it. Panic would make whatever problem they had on their hands far worse. With deliberate calmness, he rose from his seat and moved towards Liam, lightly gripping Mayfair's elbow so that she would come with him. Ordinarily he'd have trusted her to take action on her own, but given her jitteriness, he wanted to be certain.

Mayfair squatted down to examine Liam, while Slade scurried up to get a look at May's host body. She turned Liam over, felt his wrist, and was reaching for his heart when Slade hissed at the two of them, "She's dead!"

Yeesha gave a heavy sigh that did nothing to hide her lingering distaste for the priest. "She's not dead, Slade. It can take more than a full minute after the transfer for her vital signs to -"

"You don't understand! I don't mean merely dead, I mean _dead_ dead. There's no spirit of any sort inside this body."

"But..." Natasha protested, "Nothing felt wrong during the casting! Why wouldn't her soul have gone straight to this body?"

Though she was likely about to suggest an answer, Mayfair's first word of reply was choked off as Liam reached up and seized her by the throat.

"Because," the elf mage said in a grim tone, coming to his feet. "...that body wasn't prepared to receive it, thanks to the spell planted on it last night. This one was."

Nick didn't dare make a move yet, not with the queen in his grip. But Mayfair did. She grabbed hold of his forearm with one hand and drove a blow into it which made his fingers snap loose from her throat. But before she or anyone else could make another move, Liam raised his other hand towards the ceiling and cried "Tremor!"

It was a spell Nick had never seen before, and one he would wager was impossible without the sort of power May drew from Iom. The stone of the ceiling cracked, fragmented, and finally collapsed, massive weights raining down upon them all.

"No!" he cried out, and might have done something to protect some of his subjects had Gyan not beaten him to the punch, pushing him to the ground and shielding him from the debris with his massive beastman body. A particularly large piece fell on Gyan's head; he gave a grunt and slumped, inadvertently trapping Nick beneath him.

From underneath Gyan, Nick could see that only Natasha, Dawn, Jaha, and Liam himself had avoided being struck by or trapped under the rubble, and Natasha was being taken down by some sort of stun spell. The two Cypress soldiers rallied themselves to try to stop Liam, but they were hesitant, no doubt unprepared to hurt him. That gave him - or rather, May in his body - the opportunity to cast Demon Breath. Without any armor to protect them, they immediately fell to the spell.

"I'm so sorry for betraying your trust, Your Majesties," Liam said. "You should have killed me instead of keeping me prisoner here. So long as I live, I must do Iom's will. Even in this body, that isn't changed, because if I don't do as he desires, I'll never get back to my own body, and Liam will never get back to his." He stepped over the rubble and unconscious bodies. "And to my regret, what he desires today is your son."

"No..." Nick groaned. _This isn't according to plan... I didn't anticipate this. I have to stop it. I can't let Iom get his hands on my son, my heir..._ He strained and sweated, muscles strained to the limit in an effort to free himself from the combined weight of his friend's massive bulk and the heavy armor he wore. But Liam was already gone.


	10. Chapter 10: Imprisoned Soul

- Chapter 10: Imprisoned Soul -

"Hey," Jane said, knocking right as she entered the room. "How are you doin'?"

"Okay," Deanna answered, bobbing a fiercely bawling Carla in his arms. He put on an embarrassed grimace. "She won't stop crying."

"Yeah, I heard."

"I think she's hungry."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure." Carla wasn't particularly given to crying for no apparent reason, and when she did, her cries had a somewhat different ring that he'd learned to recognize. But he wasn't going to spend the time explaining that to Jane. Though he was keeping his tone polite, he didn't really understand why Jane was in their room and wished that she would leave. Even if she was a close friend of Natasha's, he didn't know her well enough to feel comfortable around her, and besides that, being alone with another woman while his wife was occupied elsewhere didn't look good. Natasha would never suspect him of an affair, at least not with so little evidence as that, but Deanna still didn't like the appearance of it.

_Come to think of it, didn't Natasha mention that Jane just got married? I'll bet her husband wouldn't like this._

"Well, if she's hungry, why don't you get Natasha to feed her?"

"She's casting that spell for May."

"Still?"

He nodded. "I thought... it's been a while, too. I wanted to go and... see what's up, but..." He shrugged, feeling more awkward by the moment. "...I can't bring Carla near there, and I can't leave her here by herself."

"So let me watch her, silly," Jane smiled.

"But..."

"It'll take you just a couple minutes to get her. If I can't take care of a baby that long, then _my_ little one is in serious trouble."

Deanna hesitated, but only for the moment it took him to remember that though he didn't know Jane very well, Natasha did. "...Okay," he said, and handed Carla over to Jane with greater care than he would give to a crystal vase.

He stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

It was a short walk to the room where May was being cured, and he encountered no one in the halls save a guard who, curiously enough, was asleep at his post. Unusual as this was, however, Deanna quickly pushed it from his mind.

His first knock at the door went unanswered. The second, which was less timid than the first, also went unanswered. At least, that's what Deanna thought at first. As he was about to knock a third time, however, he thought he heard King Nicholas's voice. Something about that voice made his warrior's instincts kick in, and he shoved the door open without a second thought, knowing that Natasha was most likely inside.

The scene within startled him into momentary inaction.

"Deanna," Nick groaned, "...can you get Gyan off of me, please?"

But the king rated only second priority. Deanna rushed to Natasha's side and lightly slapped her face to revive her.

Her eyelids fluttered. "Deanna...?"

"Thank Iom." He let out a massive breath of air. "You're okay?"

"Yeah... she just stunned me..." Natasha managed to sit up, though her eyes were still bleary. "Where did she go?"

"You mean May?"

"May in Liam's body," King Nicholas corrected. "And she's after the heir to Cypress's throne! I swear by the Light itself, if you two don't do something to stop her right now -"

"Your Majesty, Gyan is still alive," Deanna pointed out, though this was quite obvious to anyone with ears; the beastman's snores were like those of a wild boar. "Try waking him up."

"It takes a great deal to render Gyan senseless, but once done, nothing can rouse him for the better part of a day. And you two have no time left to waste on me. Hurry!"

"Natasha's in no shape to go anywhere," Deanna returned. "And I'm not leaving her alone. I don't know what happened, but May's body is still here, and if -"

"Wait," Natasha said, with the sound of a light of illumination waking her up. "Wait, that's it! The body we prepared for May didn't accept a soul, either hers or Liam's. So Liam's soul must be in May's body!"

"Obviously," the king snapped. "Your point?"

Even in the midst of this crisis, Nicholas's short temper struck Deanna as shockingly out of character. _Then again, it is his son that's in danger. Even someone like King Nicholas must have something that can drive him to the breaking point._

"The point is, from what the others explained to me, Liam should still have a link to his own body. I don't think a person's soul is really at home in someone else's body. So maybe I can stop Liam's body from here!"

"You have the training to do that?" Nicholas said, his voice very deliberately layered with doubt.

"It's our best chance! Don't you think May is prepared for someone like Deanna to show up and rouse the whole castle against her? Even if she's gambling against that happening, a battle like that would probably kill both May and Liam!" She scurried over to where May's body still lay, leaving the king looking rather abashed.

Deanna followed her, and caught her arm as she reached out to touch May. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" he whispered.

"A little," she answered.

"Natasha, you can't do this. If you die, Carla -"

"I love Carla more than my life. But I can't give up doing the right thing any time there's even a slight chance of my dying." She grasped his hand. "I need you to be with me on this, Deanna. They're all depending on us: May, Liam, Mayfair's son Eli."

Her plea confused him. "How can I help with this?"

"Just believe in me. If you don't believe in me, that I can do it, then I won't be able to believe it either." She looked deep and earnest into his eyes.

He felt weak. "I know... you can do almost anything. But I don't know what it is that you're doing with May."

"You don't need to." She tightened her grip on his hand, and reached down to touch May with her other hand.

Then she blacked out. Still on her feet, but staring blankly into space. Before Deanna could react, the same happened to him.

* * *

><p>They awoke on a bed of burning hot rocks. They were not lying on them, but standing, as they were when they blacked out. Which was fortunate, because the rocks were hot enough that they could feel it through their shoes.<p>

"Oh no," Natasha said, her face going pale.

"What happened?" Deanna asked, looking up at the purple-orange sky in confusion.

"I thought I'd be able to reach Liam's body just by sending my magic into his soul... like stopping an army by casting Blaze on the bridge they mean to use. I mean, in the sense that you don't need to touch either the army or the bridge to stop the army. But we've been drawn into May's mind instead."

"So... we're as good as dead? Is that what you're saying?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all. This is a much more dangerous way of stopping May than I was thinking of, but it can work. Still..." She nibbled on the edge of one of her fingers. "It'll be hard even getting started unless we find a guide. This wasteland we're standing in looks like it goes on forever. Just an illusion of May's mind, of course, but we don't know how her mind works, so -"

"Hi!" a voice like a high-pitched meow sounded.

Startled, Natasha whirled around to see a catchild in a pristine white dress standing to her right. _I could have sworn there was no one there a second ago... and maybe there wasn't._

"You're new here, right? You don't look anything like any of the other variations."

"Actually, we're visitors," Natasha said. "I'm Natasha, and this is Deanna. We're looking for May - you're her, aren't you? You're her as a child."

The little girl shook her head. "Uh uh. I'm one of May's variations."

"Variations?"

"You know, different aspects of her personality." She grinned brightly. "May comes in all shapes and sizes, like just flowers and trees!"

Natasha's face fell in an at once puzzled and worried expression, one she could feel Deanna shared. "You don't act like any May I've ever met."

"Oh, but I'd like to. It's just that the others never let me out," she pouted. "I don't see why May has to hide this side of herself. I'm more fun than all the others put together!" She looked up at the two of them and beamed. "So, are you two variations, too?"

Natasha shook her head. "No... I'm pretty sure we're both complete persons."

"Yeah, that makes sense. It's probably not normal to have all your variations so obviously split up like this." Little May put one hand on her elbow and the other on her chin, pondering. "I mean, really, probably the only reason May is so scattered like this is because of Iom bringing her back to life. It really conflicted us, you know?"

"Um... Excuse me, but would you mind taking us to your other variations? We have sort of an urgent problem that we need to talk to them about."

"Oh, yeah... You're probably here about the awful things we're doing with Liam and Prince Eli. Except _they're_ doing it, not me. I'd never do anything so nefarious." She began walking, giving an imperious gesture for the two of them to follow. "C'mon. All we gotta do is follow the trails of their subconscious thought lines, and we'll find 'em in no time!"

The two of them followed, though not without some bewilderment. "What a strange child," Natasha remarked to Deanna. "She has so much exuberance that it seems almost unreal, but her _vocabulary_..."

"She's not a child," Deanna reminded her. "She's a part of May that takes the form of a child."

"Oh. Right." She blushed; it was an unimportant mistake, but not one that someone with her knowledge should be making.

"Do you really understand... how all this works?" he pressed her. "How May's mind is arranged in this... world of burning rocks and variations, and how we can stop her?"

"Only what Liam and Yeesha taught me the past couple of days," she admitted. "This sort of thing isn't my field, I... I just wanted to help May." She felt Deanna's hand on her shoulder. "But we have a chance at pulling this off. I know we do."

They walked on, even as the heat from the rocks numbed their feet, until all they could feel was a sensation of steaming mist around their toes. At least, that's what Natasha thought until she glanced down.

"The rocks are gone," she observed. "And what's this strange mist?"

"We're in the domain of another of May's variations," the child-May answered. "Kinda nice that we can set up our own little spot any way we like, huh?" Natasha didn't know what to say to that, and unsurprisingly, neither did Deanna. The girl giggled a moment later. "Just kidding! The landscape just naturally reflects the persona of whoever is at home in that spot!"

"Then, those burning rocks back there...?"

"Oh, those are from the part of May that showed up when Iom resurrected her. I think they kinda look like Iom's home. _My_ domain is pretty small. It's gotten smaller and smaller ever since they stopped letting me out."

"That is as it should be," a new voice interrupted. "As a person grows and matures, they must put away childish impulses such as those you represent. Otherwise, how can they hope to attain enlightenment?"

The source of the voice stepped out from the mists, almost like a spirit. This one was an adult May, but dressed in long, colorful wool clothes, like a shaman's apprentice of some sort. "Figures it'd be her," child-May grumbled. "Let's go. Stupid waste of time; she's a bit figure, just like me."

"But, who...?" Natasha pressed, puzzled.

Deanna put his hand on her arm. "I think we should do what she says. May... wouldn't want us prying into parts of her brain that we don't need to."

"But she might be -"

"It's alright," spirit-May addressed them. "The most shameful side of myself is the one you met first. I am May's spiritual side, the one trying to become in touch with the world and the life forces flowing through it."

"In other words, coo-coo pumpkin head," child-May said. "All the important variations of May worship the gods. Even _I_ know the gods are what's real! I just don't see why we have to do so many boring rituals for them."

"May!" another voice interrupted. "You're being rude in front of our guests!"

This one was dressed in robes that wouldn't have looked unusual on the real May, except that they were incredibly stiff, forming sharp points at her shoulders. Her fur was trimmed short, and in her hand she bore May's familiar cane.

"I wasn't saying anything rude to them," child-May protested.

"You insulted someone in front of them, no doubt making them highly uncomfortable." The stiff-robed May turned to face Deanna and Natasha. "Please, forgive our rudeness. As you no doubt have guessed, I am one of May's variations. Since I hold a larger portion of her psyche than either of these two, I much more closely resemble the May you know. Is there anything that I can help you with?"

"We're here to help you, actually," Natasha said. "We need to free you from Iom's power before Liam hurts... King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair's son."

"I see." She grimaced. "I regret having to inform you of this, but you are too late."

"Huh?" child-May burst out. "But they just got here! Everyone knows that time in this plane is perceived as flowing slower than it is in the physical plane!"

"You don't understand. You two variations are so subdued in May's consciousness that you don't even know what her full plan was. You assumed that May's mind is in control of Liam's body. In fact, Liam is still fully in control. The problem is that he believes himself to be May."

"Then..." Her mind racing, Natasha pondered aloud, "How do we stop Liam?"

"You can't, not from here. Even if you completely obliterate May's Iom-worshiping variation, like a toy that has already been wound, Liam will still proceed with his evil task."

* * *

><p>Randolf and Halron were standing guard outside the room where Prince Eli was. Though at present there were no major forces within Cypress who would threaten the royal family, the monarchs did not believe in being careless. Randolf strongly shared the sentiment - after all, he'd fought in the heart of the Cypress civil war - and from what conversation he'd had with his young companion, he felt the same.<p>

Thus, his suspicions were aroused the moment he saw Liam heading in their direction. He was acquainted with the mage, and to date had seen no reason to distrust him, but men who have power often seek more of it. And there was no imaginable reason why he would visit this room that did not involve treachery.

The old knight murmured to Halron, "Accost him, lad, and send him on his way. I'll have my spear at the ready if he tries anything."

The youth looked surprised at Randolf's suspicion, but shared just enough of his instinct to obey without objection. He strode forward and stopped Liam.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

Liam gave a bow of his head. "Their Majesties sent me to fetch their son."

Halron snorted. "That's a likely story. We were assigned to the boy, so we'll bring him to Their Majesties."

The mage shook his head, then with with disciplined swiftness raised his hand and shouted "Blaze level 4!"

Even as Halron roared in pain, white-hot flames tearing into his hide, Randolf flung his spear. His aim was true, and only swift reflexes saved Liam from being pierced through the heart, the spearhead lodging in his arm instead. Liam screamed, fell to his knees, and Randolf galloped forward to finished the job.

In the handful of seconds it took him to reach his target, however, Liam managed to gather himself enough to extend his hand and cast a Freeze spell. The spell not only bit into Randolf's flesh, but formed a polished layer of ice over the floor. With the speed of his charge, the knight slid into a wall, and came crashing to the floor.

"Can't let... you stop me... for the good... of Iom..." Liam panted, and pulled the heavy spear from his arm, drawing forth another scream.

Even with the removal of the spear, the arm was only slightly better than useless. Fortunately, he needed only the one arm to do what had to be done. He moved on, ignoring Halron's cries of pain at the flames burning his fur, and pulled open the door to Eli's room.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand," Deanna said. "What do you mean when you say Liam thinks he's May?"<p>

"Just what I said," the stiff-robed May answered. "The soul and mind are different things, and the spell you constructed only transferred May's soul. But unlike May, Liam was not prepared for the transfer. To put it in simple terms, his mind naturally assumes that the soul occupying his body is his own, so when May's soul took that role, he assumed himself to be May."

"But... then what about the real May? If she was ready for this, and her mind is still in her own body, why was she unconscious after Liam and the others cast the spell?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. As I'm sure you can guess, May was very conflicted about working this horrible treachery on you all, and if she were in danger of turning against Iom, it's not unlikely that enough of his power would fade from her body to render her unconscious. But I don't think we were that successful in our battle against May's Iom-worshiping variation."

Natasha clutched at her husband's arm. "Deanna? What's wrong? You look worried."

"I think... it's a trap," he managed. "May was strapped to a bed, her magic dispelled. She couldn't do anything if she were conscious. But by luring us into her mind..."

"Deanna! May would _never_ -"

"I'm afraid she would," the spirit-May interrupted. "Behold, the sickness which would make her do so approaches."

They turned, and saw that the realm behind them had turned to a ravenous darkness. It encroached towards them, swallowing all light. And at its head walked a foxling dressed in crimson robes, tears running in well-worn paths down her face.

* * *

><p>Nick groaned and once more slumped to the floor, unable to lift Gyan's massive weight off of him.<p>

This was worse than humiliating, worse than degrading, though it certainly was both of those things. It was frustrating. Frustrating that his child, the future of Cypress, was in grave peril, and he was incapacitated by nothing more than the body weight of his protector. Cypress would survive if Eli was killed - he and Mayfair could sire another child - but such a blow was nonetheless not to be taken lightly. It should not be happening, not under his watch. He had never suffered a failure like this, never.

He steeled himself, tensing his body again, even though he already felt thoroughly exhausted from his efforts. This time, he felt Gyan's body slide a hair to his left. It might have been his imagination, but he had nothing to lose, so he changed his approach to trying to push Gyan off his left side.

Persuading Gyan's mammoth body to even budge was like persuading the king of Sharland to give exclusive trading rights. But the life of his heir and his dignity as king didn't depend on him accomplishing the latter.

Nick planted his wrists on the floor beneath him, summoned every ounce of will he had left, and pushed until every last muscle in his arm was screaming. His chest burned, and it hit him that lifting a weight like Gyan's was very likely to cause him injury, even with his having kept himself as physically fit as he had. He shoved this thought down; his good health was trivial compared with what was at stake. Another voice inside reminded him that even if he succeeded in getting Gyan off of him, it was almost certainly too late for him to do anything that would make a difference. He shoved that thought down as well.

And pushed.

His efforts reached the necessary threshold, and Gyan's body shot up an inch. At the same instant, a blinding pain bolted through Nick's arm into his head, and only instinct led him to roll away in the tiny gap he'd made before his strength gave out.

He checked himself as he got to his feet, and found his arm to be badly sprained but intact. He afforded a quick glance at Deanna and Natasha, who were still slumped unconscious next to May's body, but gave them no further consideration. Even if he thought he could help them (and given his relatively limited understanding of this field of magic, anything he tried was more likely to harm as help), he had a more urgent concern.

It was now his legs' turn to strain to the breaking point as he ran off towards the room where his son rested.

* * *

><p>All six limbs trembling, Randolf staggered to his feet, eyes fixed upon the elf mage entering Eli's room. He didn't know why Liam had so easily counted him out; Randolf was not at all egotistical, but he couldn't help but be familiar with his own reputation. And he certainly knew his own strength and will enough to know that it would take a great deal more than a headlong crash into a wall to keep him from protecting the heir to the throne.<p>

He intended to make Liam regret his mistake as quickly as possible. Though he loathed abandoning the boy, Halron was a secondary concern, especially as he was beginning to put out his own fire by rolling on the ground. Wasting no time on stealth, since the clopping of centaur hooves can simply never be as quiet as human or dwarven feet, Randolf galloped straight at Liam.

The mage spun around at the sound and, just as Randolf was upon him, fired off a Blast spell. It was a wiser choice than the veteran knight had expected; rather than just injuring him, which would have done no good with his momentum as it was, the spell actually pushed him back. But of course, it was only enough to slow him a bit, and could not stop one of his front hooves from slamming into Liam's chest.

With a painful cry, Liam fell to the floor. He gritted his teeth, Randolf approaching to finish him, and let loose with Demon Breath.

Randolf barely even grunted as the spell hit him. "You will not... harm... Cypress's prince... traitor!"

At that, he kicked at Liam, his hoof catching a glancing blow to his head that knocked him senseless. It was a crude means of victory, Randolf supposed, but there hadn't been time to retrieve his spear. Even now, he couldn't risk turning away from Liam to fetch it; he might be playing possum. Instead, he raised his hoof over Liam's head so as to crush his skull.

"Randolf, no!"

The knight froze at the command of his king. "Your Majesty?"

"My son... is he..." Nick managed, out of breath.

"He's perfectly safe. But Halron -"

"Understood," Nick answered. Unquestionably he must have spotted the flaming beastman already, and with his child's safety assured, he sprinted to the water pitcher set in the room, seized it, and ran back to douse Halron with it.

Randolf continued to keep a wary eye on Liam until the king returned. He immediately went to his son's crib, looking inside to assure himself that the boy was crying only because the combatant's cries of pain had upset him, not because any harm had come to him. "Thank the gods," King Nicholas gasped with relief.

Randolf cleared his throat. "Your Majesty... Liam..."

"...is no traitor," the king explained. "He is under the control of May. There is little time to explain. We need to find a priest and bring him to the room where May is. Unless I miss my guess, the Dispell magic on her will be wearing off soon, which means right now, it's up to Deanna and Natasha to stop her."

* * *

><p>"You can stop this," Natasha appealed to the crimson-robed May.<p>

She shook her head. "No one can stop this. Only three variations gathered against me, with only one of them a significant player in my identity? No, that will not stop me. In the real world, perhaps they still have a chance to kill me, but here you can do nothing."

"Wrong!" the child-May contradicted, her face beaming with a gleeful optimism. "It's not us variations who are going to stop you. These two here aren't just memory fragments; they're the real Deanna and Natasha! They'll put an end to you!"

The Iom worshiper's face fell into confusion. "What? You weren't supposed to actually enter... Not this part of the realm, I had a place prepared to hold you two..."

"Listen," Natasha said, as though trying to calm a drunkard. "It's obvious that you don't really want to hurt Prince Nick and General Mayfair's son. Even this variation of yourself is conflicted; I can see you've been crying."

"You're wrong. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but every one of these tears was shed for Iom. Since the day he restored my life, I have wept for his loneliness, for his endless hunger. To fill his desire, there is nothing I would not do."

Natasha was taken aback, almost dumbstruck. _I never thought... never believed that May really felt that way about Iom. They told me Iom's power is keeping her alive, but could that power have taken control of her mind? The May I know would never give such devotion to Iom willingly, but..._

She was startled out of her train of thought by Deanna speaking in a strong and confident voice. "I understand." He stepped forward, coming within an arm's reach of the crimson-robed May. "Iom spoke to me, too, in the shrine where we fought King Warderer. I understand how you feel for him."

May's face twisted with rage. "If you understand... then how can you defy him? How can you deprive him of the sustenance he yearns for!"

"May!" the stiff-robed May interjected. "Watch your tone with Deanna! He's your friend, and he only wants to help you."

"More important..." Deanna hesitated a moment, then said, "You don't know what you're talking about. I have made sacrifices to him. I've served him... in every way that my conscience would allow me to.

"But, May... we can't do things like you're doing for him. We can't hurt and kill people for him. Natasha showed me how important that is. People's lives are precious. We can't destroy them just for someone's personal desires."

"Iom isn't just 'someone'! He is our god!"

"Yes..." Deanna looked down. "...but he's not a good god. He needs us to make sacrifices for him. A good and noble god wouldn't need anything but our loyalty." His voice dropped a note for a moment, sounding weak. "He tried to take Natasha, May. And he _did_ take Hindel. If Iom didn't know how noble and precious the two of them are, then he's not a worthy god. And if he knew, but subjected Hindel to that horrible fate anyway, then he's not even close to being a worthy god!"

She looked guilty at Deanna's words, hiding her eyes from his gaze. "I'm sorry for your suffering, Deanna... and that I must add to it. But -"

"I know. You've always been like that, May... You throw yourself in harm's way... because you don't want other people to suffer. It's... how you ended up under Iom's power in the first place. I've become the same way, sort of. I serve Iom only because I don't want him to suffer, not because he's at all a worthy god. But to hurt people for him... That's going against what you're all about, May."

"He's right." Natasha looked up, startled, to see a half dozen more variations of May coming out of the sky. The shroud of darkness that accompanied the Iom-worshiping May was broken and then dissolved before the descending angels.

The child-May began jumping with exhilaration. "It's raining down May! Woooo!"

"What's going on?" the crimson robed May cried in alarm.

"Deanna's words reminded us of our many scattered parts," said a May bedecked with deep wounds and festering disease. "They ended the blindness that Iom's power gave us, opened May up to the fact that all these wounds are being inflicted not just on her, but on her friends. May is too strong to let such a thing continue."

Deanna retreated back to Natasha's side, and the two of them looked on in wonder and just a bit of confusion as the newly arrived Mays descended in a surrounding circle about the crimson-robed May. They were joined by the three Mays who had accompanied them in their search.

"You can't destroy me - not even all of you together!" Iom's May almost screamed in defiance.

"We don't intend to. We just want to stop you from being so aggressive."

"To put an end to your inappropriate and extremely rude behavior."

"To end the suffering you're bringing to others."

"By far the most sensible way of doing that, by my estimate, is to unify all of us variations back into one whole."

"Yeah! It's time to take all the scattered pieces of May and stick them together!"

"To unify the spirit and move one step closer to enlightenment."

"To find peace with our self."

They all reached out and grasped Iom's May, firmly but not forcefully. She tried one last protest, "But our soul is still trapped in Liam's body!"

"Assuming our friends do not solve that problem, it is better to live as a soul adrift than to enslave ourself to Iom's whim."

The Mays began glowing brighter and brighter, until they shone with a resonance stronger than gold under the sun. And as swiftly as raindrops running together, they melted and merged into one.

* * *

><p>"We're...out?" Deanna gasped, snapping back from May's prone body. He looked around to find Natasha recovering beside him.<p>

"I think so," she said, and put a hand to May. "...Yes. I can feel her in there; I couldn't do that if this was just an illusion." She turned to him with a proud smile. "You did it. You managed to reach through to her. I couldn't even understand why she feels the way she does, but you -"

"We wouldn't have even gotten inside her head if it weren't for you," he countered. "You came up with the idea, you had the courage, and it was your knowledge... that got us in there. Don't... don't criticize yourself just because you needed someone else to help save a few lives. You know better."

"...Thank you," she blushed, realizing she'd slipped into her old habit of complimenting her comrades' performance after a battle.

They were brought back to the present by King Nicholas bursting into the room, Randolf and a priest right behind him. "Natasha!" he called. "It's a relief to see you and Deanna are well. What's happened to May?"

"She's alive and has broken free of Iom, Your Majesty," Natasha replied. "But her soul is still - Oh! Oh, gods! I forgot that Liam is acting independently of May! Did you stop him before -"

"No harm has befallen my son." He turned to the priest. "Check the fallen and treat any injuries they may have, starting with my queen." Without losing step, he turned back to Natasha and said, "Now, what is this about Liam acting independently?"

* * *

><p>Once May regained consciousness, she was so effusive with her apologies that Natasha fancied even Nick looked a bit embarrassed.<p>

"The problem remains," the king said, as though trying to shake off the emotion of the moment. "You have Liam's soul for the moment. And so long as he has yours, Liam cannot control himself."

"I think I might be able to solve that problem, Your Majesty," Yeesha spoke up. "It would be a whole lot easier if we had Liam to guide us, but... I did a little extra study in the field while we were working on May's problem. I don't know enough to transfer someone's soul into another body - Liam was the only one of us who could actually lead a casting of that spell - but if it's just a matter of putting everyone's soul back where it belongs, I think I can pull that off." She turned to Natasha. "With your help, of course."

"...What are the risks?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "There shouldn't be any. Even the first spell we tried only went wrong because May tampered with the body. Don't you have faith in me, Your Majesty?"

"Naturally I do, but -"

"Then leave it to me, okay?"

The king frowned. "Yeesha, as I've told you before, you will address your sovereign with respect. You -" He stopped there, then turned away with a sigh. "Never mind. I'm too relieved at how things have turned out to lecture you."

"Hmm," Yeesha murmured as she watched Nick go to Mayfair, who was holding their son. "I'm surprised he's not more upset about this all. His son was almost killed."

"He always puts on a bold face for his people," Natasha said, smiling.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Jengh marched down the stone steps into the dungeon. For once, he was making an unsolicited visit to Brehen. He strutted down the hall to his prison cell, humming a tune.<p>

Finding Brehen napping on the floor, the lieutenant rapped his knuckles on the bars. "It's early afternoon, false prophet. You can stop working on your prophetic dreams now."

Brehen's eyes perked open. "What is it?" he groaned.

"I thought you'd be interested to know that we've received word that Deanna and Natasha are returning from their trip to Cypress. The diplomatic party went fine. They saw some old friends." He paused, smirking in anticipation of the master stroke. "Oh, and a wizard of Iom caused some mishaps. No doubt that was what you saw in your dream? Then you'll be interested to know that they stopped her before she could harm the heir to the Cypress throne. Prophecy averted." He leaned in close to the bars and hissed, "You assssaulted Lady Natasha for nothing."

"The failed attempt to kill Prince Eli wasn't the important part," Brehen muttered.

"What?"

"I said, the attempt to kill Prince Eli wasn't the important part." Brehen sat up and leaned towards Jengh. "I've heard about that part in my dreams. I even saw it happen in one of them. But that's not the important part. The vital part was what happened to Deanna and Natasha's child."

"A child who doessssn't exist yet!" Jengh returned. "Or have you changed your mind again and decided it could be their daughter Carla after all?"

"He _does_ exist. You just don't know it yet."

"Oh, I see. Riddles. I should expect nothing better from you."

"I'm not riddling!" Brehen snapped, gripping the bars of his cell with sudden rage, sticking his head out as far as he could. "The answer is perfectly obvious, but you're too much of a fool to understand! It's begun now, and if you don't kill Natasha's son, he'll -"

Jengh delivered a punch to Brehen's jaw that sent him sprawling across the floor, spitting out blood and a pair of teeth.

It was a lot gentler than what Jengh would have liked to do to him, but it would satisfy him for the moment. He made his way back up the prison hall, humming a new tune.


	11. Epilogue: In the Shade

- Epilogue: In the Shade -

Once they were back in Iom, one of the first things they did was go to see a midwife, at Natasha's insistence. She was very eager for another child, and it had been over a month now since they'd last checked, she reasoned.

While the midwife cast the View spell on Natasha's belly, Deanna sat in a chair and stared at his folded hands. He was eager for another child, too, but he was also worried. It had been over half a year now since Carla's birth with no sign of another child, and not for lack of trying. While they didn't have nearly as much time for making love as they'd had in the weeks before Carla was conceived, they did so when they could; the desire was rarely lacking. And while they both enjoyed that of itself, the fact that it hadn't borne the fruit of new life made Deanna afraid that one child was all he could give Natasha. This fear seemed a bit irrational even to him, but he could not suppress it.

To distract his thoughts, he ran over his last conversation with May.

_"What I'm still wondering..." he had said to her, "...is why you were unconscious after the spell was cast. Liam wasn't, and he wasn't prepared for it like you were. You could have been faking, but it wasn't a trap to capture Natasha and me in your mind, either. So, why?"_

_ May's face twitched at the question. "Well, that has to do with fulfilling my last major orders to Iom. And... forgive me... but it would ruin things if I told anyone."_

_ "But... I thought... with what happened there, in your mind..."_

_ "I still have some loyalty to Iom, and the plan I've set in motion isn't going to hurt anyone. Trust me, Deanna."_

_ "I have no problem trusting you," he said, his voice grave. "It's Iom I don't trust."_

_ "You said Iom spoke to you. That wasn't a lie, was it?" She smiled faintly. "Then you must know that Iom doesn't lie when he speaks with his true voice. Please, believe me. I know Iom has done terrible things, but this time he has forged a future for the better of us all. I won't do things like this for him anymore, but I can't betray him, either."_

_ "If it's for the better of us all, why can't you tell me about it?"_

_ "Because it's going to take a long time to happen, and some of it is going to be very hard. If you knew, you might look for a way to stop it. ...I'm sorry."_

_ They stood there for a few moments in awkward silence. Then Deanna said, "Promise me... that none of it is going to hurt Natasha or Carla."_

_ May nodded. "I promise you, they'll be safer than anyone."_

Maybe there was no tangible reason for him to believe her, but he did. Something about her manner, the palpable sense of freedom, relief, and gratitude about her made him feel that she was again the May he had known before, his comrade in battle, the gentle foxling who put politeness before all else. There was no longer the heavy sense of burden and guilt that he'd seen when he visited her in prison.

Natasha still tried to give him most of the credit for that, but he didn't swallow it. Without her, he'd have never gained the strength to speak to May that way. Besides, May herself was the chief architect of her change in heart. He did feel proud of himself for his part in things, but...

"I've found something," the midwife announced.

Deanna and Natasha both went rigid with anticipation.

"And... still very small yet... but I'm pretty sure... it's a boy."

"It's..." Natasha gasped. "Deanna, did you hear?"

They got up and flung their arms around each other. Deanna's worries vanished, replaced by a sense of soaring. "It's a boy - a boy," Natasha exclaimed. "I was hoping and hoping for one, and - uh, I mean, a girl would have been wonderful too, but we have a daughter now, and I wanted to have a son too, and, and I know you've been wanting to name one of our children after Hindel, and I think we should too, and now we can! I've never met Hindel but I love him so much because he took care of you and saved your life, so if it weren't for him I wouldn't have you, or Carla, or our new son, and so we definitely should name him Hindel, and... And I don't know why I'm babbling like this, I..."

Deanna held her close and kissed every part of her face, not caring whether or not the midwife had shown enough discretion to leave the room. He'd actually never said anything about wanting to name their first son after Hindel; Natasha must have intuited it. It amazed him that they'd come to know each other that well, but he was too overwhelmed by love for her to give it any thought.

Carla was making noise at this point, and Natasha broke away from to scoop her up in her arms. "Did you hear that, Carla? You have a little brother!"

_We have a son,_ Deanna told himself over again. Now that it had happened, it seemed almost beyond belief that such a wonder should visit him when they already had Carla. _We have a son._

END?


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